There was not a closed door in the length of the street, and nowhere was
his entrance barred; the call to arms had temporarily cleared the houses
of the invaders quartered in them, and he ran from one doorway to
another unhindered, calling on Griselda as he entered, looking into
every room, and then out to repeat the process. The two first houses
were empty from garret to cellar, but with signs of having been left,
recently and hurriedly, by the soldiers billeted therein; odds and ends
of military kit were scattered about, chairs overturned and left lying;
and in one room, a kitchen, on a half-extinguished fire, a blackened
frizzle of meat in a frying-pan filled the air with a smell of burning.
The third house he thought likewise empty; downstairs there was the same
litter—overthrown furniture and food half eaten on the table; but
opening the door of an upper room he came on a woman with three
children. The woman started to her feet as the door opened, a child
hugged to her bosom and other two clinging to her skirt; and William had
a passing impression of a plump, pallid face with lips apart and wide,
wet eyes, half-imploring and half-defiant. One of the children was
crying—its mouth was rounded in a roar—but you heard nothing of its
vigorous plaint for the louder din without. William made a gesture that
he meant to be reassuring, shut the door and ran back into the street.
He went in and out desperately, like a creature hunted or hunting; and,
having drawn blank in house after house, the deadly thought refused to
be thrust and kept under. If they had taken her away, she might be ...
anywhere! East or west, gone in any direction, and leaving no clue for
her following. Anywhere in a blind incomprehensible world, where men
killed men and might was right, and life, as he knew it from his
childhood up, had ended in an orgy of devilry! He went on running from
house to house, while shells screamed and burst and guns clattered by,
and no man gave heed to his running or the tumult and torture of his
fears. Upstairs and down and out again—upstairs and down and out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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