Grania, The Story of an Island; vol. 2/2Lawless, Emily
General
Grania, The Story of an Island; vol. 2/2
Lawless, Emily
Ireland -- Fiction
As for Teige O’Shaughnessy he remained at least ten minutes standing
upon the same spot where they had parted, gazing with the same air of
sheepish remonstrance at the piece of rock where he had seen her last.
Then, with a grunt and a look of perplexity, he returned, scratching his
carroty head, to the cabin, and set to work again upon the piece of
flannel stretched upon the loom. The tide continued to rise; the little
peninsula was presently converted into an island; he and old Biddy were
as effectually cut off from the rest of Inishmaan as though an ocean had
rolled between them and it. She was back now in her usual place beside
the chimney, her eyes fixed with a look of eager, unblinking fascination
upon a particular spot amongst the rafters. All at once she sprang up,
made a dart forward, and caught at something, small enough, apparently,
to be contained in one hand, then retreated, gibbering and chuckling, to
her stool again, as delighted evidently as a child that has captured a
butterfly. Cautiously she opened finger after finger, at last the whole
hand; peeped round each portion of it separately, examined front, back,
and sides, every part of it, her wrinkled old face twisted into an
expression first of high glee, next of incredulity. Finally, with a
grimace of sudden disappointment and malice, she turned, shaking her
fist and chattering her teeth furiously, in the direction of her nephew,
evidently regarding him as in some way or other responsible for the
disappointment.
CHAPTER V
At last the spell which had so long brooded over the islands was broken!
The weather changed. The rain ceased--temporarily at any rate. A glimmer
of sunshine even broke out, and sent dimpling, pinkish reflections one
after the other along the sides of the little cooses, which for months
had known no colours but indian ink and lamp-black. The rock pools
themselves awoke, the oozy things that tenant them seeming to feel the
warm impulsion from above, expanding their snaky tentacles and turning
their ever-gaping, hungry, jelly-like mouths towards the sunlight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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