A Tatter of Scarlet: Adventurous Episodes of the Commune in the Midi 1871Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
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A Tatter of Scarlet: Adventurous Episodes of the Commune in the Midi 1871
Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
Adventure stories; Franco-Prussian War, 1870-1871 -- Fiction; Scots -- France -- Fiction
I had scarcely begun my task of writing for the day, when I was called
from my desk by a message from Alida. It was a cunningly folded note,
sealed with the great seal which had been her father's. The bright
splash of red wax occupied quite a third of the back. So, not to tear
the paper, I laid it a moment on the hob, and then with the thinnest
blade of my knife, I lifted it cleanly away in one piece. After which I
unfolded the rustling sheet.
"Come and see me before anyone else."
That was all and indeed quite enough, for with quick beating pulses I
hastened to obey. Linn was waiting for me at the first turn of the
wooded path, and as we paced along together towards Garden Cottage I
could feel the "gleg" inquisitorial eyes of Saunders McKie boring into
my back. I wished Linn had sent over one of the Tessiers on this first
occasion, but I do not suppose it ever occurred to her to let another do
for Alida what she could do herself.
The Bey was within the walled garden, pacing up and down, revolving in
his mind something which pleased him but little.
"What is it, Keller Bey?" I asked sharply. "Do you not find yourself
comfortable among us?"
"Too comfortable by half," he grunted, "here are many things which must
have cost much money, and yet I am told by Alida that they are presents
of welcome for which I must not pay--whereupon, of course, Linn agrees
with her, and I who was the right hand of Abd-el-Kader and thought
myself indebted to no man, am made in my own eyes a veritable pauper!"
"Keller Bey," I said, "you speak in ignorance of our English customs. At
a house-warming or the taking possession of a new residence, all your
friends are under obligation to bring their contribution to the home. It
is our way of wishing you good luck and a happy tenancy. Nothing could
be more unfortunate than any offer of payment for such a service."
"Yes--yes--I understand," he broke in testily, "I suppose I have been
too long among the black tents. I learn your ways with difficulty. I am
sure every one means well, but how am I to do all that thanking? Can I
bow backs at my age and say grace for what I would rather have done
without?"
"You cannot," I said, laughing at his perturbed face, "for we do not
tell the name of the givers lest it should bring ill-luck. But where is
Alida?"
Alida, it seemed, was in the pleasant gable parlour which, with so much
anxious forethought, we had fitted up for her. She had been arranging
her books on the shelves, and was now going from picture to picture and
from window to window.
She gave me both hands when she saw me and said immediately, "Angoos,
who would have thought that we had among us at Autun such an observant
boy! You have reproduced my room there with hardly a change, save the
pictures and the pottery. Has your father let them to us along with the
house?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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