The Master of Man: The Story of a SinCaine, Hall, Sir
General
The Master of Man: The Story of a Sin
Caine, Hall, Sir
Infanticide -- Fiction; Isle of Man -- Fiction; Legal stories; Redemption -- Fiction
Just then the peacocks screamed in the courtyard---they always
screamed when visitors were approaching. Mrs. Gell looked up and the
Speaker walked to the window and looked out without seeing anybody.
But at the next moment the drawing-room door was thrust open and
their eldest daughter, Isabella, with wide eyes and a blank
expression was saying breathlessly,
"It's Alick. He has run away from school."
Alick came behind her, a pitiful sight, his college cap in his hand,
his face pale, drawn and smudged with sweat, his hair disordered, his
clothes covered with dust, and his boots thick with soil.
"What's this she says--that you've run away?" said the Speaker.
"Yes, I have--I told her so myself," said Alick, who was half crying.
"Did you though? And now perhaps you will tell me something--why?"
"Because Stowell had been expelled, and I couldn't stay when he was
gone."
"Couldn't you now? And why couldn't you?"
"He was innocent."
"Innocent, was he? Who says he was innocent?"
"I do, Sir, because .... it was _I_."
It was a sickening moment for the Speaker. He gasped as if something
had smitten him in the mouth, and his burly figure almost staggered.
"You did it .... what Stowell was expelled for?" he stammered.
"Yes, Sir," said Alick, and then, still with the tremor of a sob in
his voice, he told his story. It was the same that he had told twice
before, but with a sequel added. Although he had confessed to the
Principal, they had expelled Stowell. Not publicly perhaps, but it
had been expelling him all the same. Four days they had kept him in
his study, without saying what they meant to do with him. Then this
morning, while the boys were at prayers they had heard carriage
wheels come up to the door of the Principal's house, and when they
came out of Chapel the Study was empty and Stowell was gone.
"And then," said the Speaker (with a certain pomp of contempt now),
"without more ado you ran away?"
"Yes, Sir," answered the boy, "by the lavatory window when we were
breaking up after breakfast."
"Where did you get the money to travel with?"
"I had no money, Sir. I walked."
"Walked from Castletown? What have you eaten since breakfast?"
"Only what I got on the road, Sir."
"You mean .... begged?"
"I asked at a farm by Foxdale for a glass of milk and the farmer's
wife gave me some bread as well, Sir."
"Did she know who you were?"
"She asked me--I had to answer her."
"You told her you were my son?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And perhaps--feeling yourself such a fine fellow, what you were
doing there, and why you were running away from school?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You fool! You infernal fool!"
The Speaker had talked himself out of breath and for a moment his
wife intervened.
"Alick," she said, "if it was you, as you say, who walked out with
the girl, who was she?"
"She was .... a servant girl, mother."
"But who?"
"Tut!" said the Speaker, "what does it matter who? .... You say you
confessed to the Principal?"
"Yes, Sir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account