British -- Cuba -- Fiction; Cuba -- History -- Revolution, 1895-1898 -- Fiction
Tony caught her hands, and would have drawn her to him, but the girl
shook off his grasp and slipped away, while the man stood still until
the door closed behind her, and then shook his head.
“Angry yet!” he said. “If one could only understand her—but it’s quite
beyond me, and I’ve no inclination for further worries of any kind just
now.”
He turned towards the cupboard again, stopped a moment, and then, with a
little impatient gesture, went out of the room. He did not see Violet
again that night, and went to bed early, though it was long before he
slept. It was early morning when he was awakened by the sound of a door
being opened suddenly and a hasty running up and down. In a few minutes
there were voices beneath him in the hall, while he huddled on his
clothes; and going out he stood a moment, irresolute, in the corridor. A
man who seemed to tread in a curious fashion was coming down the stairs,
and passed apparently without noticing him. Then Tony gasped as the
Darsley doctor he had sent for touched his arm, for he could see the
man’s face dimly in the faint gray light.
“Yes,” said the doctor quietly, answering the unspoken question. “I
never expected it would come so suddenly, or I would have sent for you.
Godfrey Palliser passed away ten minutes ago.”
XVI — DANE COP
IT was a dismal wet afternoon when Tony Palliser stood bareheaded beside
a dripping yew tree under the eastern window of Northrop church. His
head was aching, for the last few days and nights had not passed
pleasantly with him, and confused as his thoughts were he realized what
he owed to the man the bearers were then waiting to carry to his resting
place. Godfrey Palliser had been autocratic and a trifle exacting, but
he had taken his nephew into the place of his dead son, and bestowed all
he had on him, while Tony remembered what his part had been. He had with
false words hindered the dying man making a reparation which would have
lightened his last hours.
Tony was not usually superstitious, or addicted to speculation about
anything that did not concern the present world, but as he glanced at
the faces close packed beyond the tall marble pillar with its gleaming
cross, and heard the words of ponderous import the surpliced vicar read,
he was troubled by a vague sense of fear. Godfrey Palliser had gone out
into the unknown, unforgiving, and with heart hardened against his
kinsman who had done no wrong, but it seemed to Tony that the man who
had deceived him would be held responsible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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