Wastralls: A NovelDawson Scott, C. A. (Catharine Amy)
General
Wastralls: A Novel
Dawson Scott, C. A. (Catharine Amy)
Cornwall (England : County) -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction
From the gate he could see the wagon had been stopped and that Tom
Rosevear was lifting down his daughter. The family had gathered in the
road and the younger girls were talking to Jim, doubtless giving him
Christmas commissions. A little air of festivity pervaded the group, an
air which as Leadville did not understand it, he found ominous. He
wanted to rush up the road and seize and carry Gray off from among them,
carry her away from Trevorrick, out of the complications of life there
and, above everything, carry her away from Jim. For a desperate
situation, desperate remedies. He did not mean to sit down under
misfortune, to accept tamely the blows of destiny. All things come—not
to those who wait, but to those who fight; and he who cannot fight for
his mate is no man.
"They’ve been courtin’ for months," said Sabina. "Anybody but you would
have seen it, but you’re never ’ome. You can’t expect to know things
when you’m out mumpin’ around the cliffs like an old dog."
Gray had gone into the house, the big bold house on the hillside, with
her mother; and Leadville turned back from the yard gate.
"I’ll send ’un off neck and crop," he cried, ragingly. "He shall go
to-night. He shall never stay ’ere on the place another night." His
words came stammeringly, like liquid out of a bottle that is too sharply
tilted. "I’ll send’n goin’ neck an’ crop out of this, then we shall
see."
"Iss, my dear," returned Sabina bitterly, "then we shall see. They’m
courtin’ and before long they’ll be married—then we shall see; and when
they’m married they’ll live ’ere along with we, then we shall see."
But the unhappy man, unable to endure her words, had rushed blindly
away.
*CHAPTER X*
Beyond Wastralls rose a line of black cliffs culminating in the high
ground of Dark Head and, towards them, Leadville turned. No roads
crossed these solitudes. Sheep cropped the fine herbage, sea-gulls built
on the inaccessible ledges, tumuli and earthworks showed that man too
had once sheltered here. Far inland an occasional grey homestead, in
its nest of farm-buildings, could be discerned, while in clear weather
the daymark was visible on Stepper Point. Otherwise the eye was given
only the wide spaces of sky and sea and earth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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