Викрадений
Chapter 19
Hiswifesatbythefireandwept,withherfaceinherhands;hiseldestsonwascroucheduponthefloor,runningoveragreatmassofpapersandnowandagainsettingonealightandburningittothebitterend;allthewhileaservantlasswitharedfacewasrummagingabouttheroom,inablindhurryoffear,andwhimperingasshewent;andeverynowandagainoneofthemenwouldthrustinhisfacefromtheyard,andcryfororders.
AtlastJamescouldkeephisseatnolonger,andbeggedmypermissiontobesounmannerlyaswalkabout.“Iambutpoorcompanyaltogether,sir,”sayshe,“butIcanthinkofnothingbutthisdreadfulaccident,andthetroubleitisliketobringuponquiteinnocentpersons.”
Alittleafterheobservedhissonburningapaperwhichhethoughtshouldhavebeenkept;andatthathisexcitementburstoutsothatitwaspainfultowitness.Hestrucktheladrepeatedly.
“Areyougonegyte?”hecried.“Doyouwishtohangyourfather?”andforgetfulofmypresence,carriedonathimalongtimetogetherintheGaelic,theyoungmanansweringnothing;onlythewife,atthenameofhanging,throwingherapronoverherfaceandsobbingoutlouderthanbefore.
Thiswasallwretchedforastrangerlikemyselftohearandsee;andIwasrightgladwhenAlanreturned,lookinglikehimselfinhisfineFrenchclothes,though(tobesure)theywerenowgrownalmosttoobatteredandwitheredtodeservethenameoffine.
