The Child of the Moat: A Story for Girls. 1557 A.D.Stoughton Holborn, I. B. (Ian Bernard)
History
The Child of the Moat: A Story for Girls. 1557 A.D.
Stoughton Holborn, I. B. (Ian Bernard)
Adventure stories; Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Mary I, 1553-1558 -- Juvenile fiction
In a way, doubtless, Audry’s mother did not mean to be altogether
cruel; but she had no love for her small visitor and thought that it
was unnecessary for Master Mowbray to bring her to Holwick Hall. So she
always found plenty of heavy work for the child to do and often made
excuses when Audry had some dainty or extra pleasure as to why Aline
should not have her share. Aline thought of her father, Captain Angus
Gillespie of Logan, and remembered his infinite care for her when she
had been the apple of his eye. It had been a sad little life;--first
she had been motherless from infancy and then had followed the long
financial difficulties that she did not understand; but one thing after
another had gone; and just before her father died they had had to leave
Logan Tower and go and live in Edinburgh; and the little estate was
sold.
Audry in her rough, kindly way, flung her arms round the slim form and
kissed her. “Do not think melancholy things; come along to the library
and see what we can find.” So they left the solar and went down
through the hall and out into the upper court. They raced across the
court, because of the rain, and up the little flight of nine steps,
three at a time, till they were on the narrow terrace that ran along
the front of the library.
Aline reached the door first, and, as she swung back the heavy oak with
its finely carved panels, exclaimed: “There, I told you I could run.”
They shut the door and walked down the broad central space. The library
had been built in the fifteenth century by Master James Mowbray,
Audry’s great-great-grandfather, and was supposed to be the finest in
the North of England. It was divided on each side into little alcoves,
each lit by its own window and most of the books were chained to their
places, being attached to a long rod that ran along the top of each
shelf. At the end of each alcove was a lock with beautifully wrought
iron tracery work that held the rod so that it could not be pulled out.
The library was very dusty and was practically never used, as the
present lord of Holwick was not a scholar; so for the last four years
since he had succeeded to the estate it had been neglected and Aline
was almost the only person who ever entered it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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