May Alcott The Mysterious Key And What It Opened

1. Auflage 2015
ISBN: 978-1-5080-8543-0
Verlag: Dead Dodo Classic Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 79 Seiten

The story begins with the mysterious death of Sir Richard Trevlyn. All the reader knows is that Richard's wife, Alice, who is pregnant with their first child, listens through a keyhole in the library door to a conversation Richard has with a visitor. What she hears horrifies her, she faints, and a servant, Hester, finds her and helps her to bed. Alice insists Richard not be disturbed, but Hester is worried and goes to the library anyway to tell him his wife is ill. She finds him slumped over his desk, dead.
 
Twelve years later the child, Lillian, meets a stranger on the grounds, a sixteen year old boy named Paul who applies for work on the estate. He does his job well, advancing in position and earning the affection of family and servants alike. Some of the servants suspect he may be more than a mere gardener or groom, but they like him and when he leaves without a word to anyone they are confused and disappointed.

Autoren/Hrsg.

May Alcott, Louisa

Leseproben

CHAPTER II: PAUL
.................. “Come, child, the dew is falling, and it is time we went in.” “No, no, Mamma is not rested yet, so I may run down to the spring if I like.” And Lillian, as willful as winsome, vanished among the tall ferns where deer couched and rabbits hid. Hester leisurely followed, looking as unchanged as if a day instead of twelve years had passed since her arms received the little mistress, who now ruled her like a tyrant. She had taken but a few steps when the child came flying back, exclaiming in an excited tone, “Oh, come quick! There’s a man there, a dead man. I saw him and I’m frightened!” “Nonsense, child, it’s one of the keepers asleep, or some stroller who has no business here. Take my hand and we’ll see who it is.” Somewhat reassured, Lillian led her nurse to one of the old oaks beside the path, and pointed to a figure lying half hidden in the fern. A slender, swarthy boy of sixteen, with curly black hair, dark brows, and thick lashes, a singularly stern mouth, and a general expression of strength and pride, which added character to his boyish face and dignified his poverty. His dress betrayed that, being dusty and threadbare, his shoes much worn, and his possessions contained in the little bundle on which he pillowed his head. He was sleeping like one quite spent with weariness, and never stirred, though Hester bent away the ferns and examined him closely. “He’s not dead, my deary; he’s asleep, poor lad, worn out with his day’s tramp, I dare say.” “I’m glad he’s alive, and I wish he’d wake up. He’s a pretty boy, isn’t he? See what nice hands he’s got, and his hair is more curly than mine. Make him open his eyes, Hester,” commanded the little lady, whose fear had given place to interest. “Hush, he’s stirring. I wonder how he got in, and what he wants,” whispered Hester. “I’ll ask him,” and before her nurse could arrest her, Lillian drew a tall fern softly over the sleeper’s face, laughing aloud as she did so. The boy woke at the sound, and without stirring lay looking up at the lovely little face bent over him, as if still in a dream. “Bella cara,” he said, in a musical voice. Then, as the child drew back abashed at the glance of his large, bright eyes, he seemed to wake entirely and, springing to his feet, looked at Hester with a quick, searching glance. Something in his face and air caused the woman to soften her tone a little, as she said gravely, “Did you wish to see any one at the Hall?” “Yes. Is Lady Trevlyn here?” was the boy’s answer, as he stood cap in hand, with the smile fading already from his face. “She is, but unless your business is very urgent you had better see Parks, the keeper; we don’t trouble my lady with trifles.” “I’ve a note for her from Colonel Daventry; and as it is not a trifle, I’ll deliver it myself, if you please.” Hester hesitated an instant, but Lillian cried out, “Mamma is close by, come and see her,” and led the way, beckoning as she ran. The lad followed with a composed air, and Hester brought up the rear, taking notes as she went with a woman’s keen eye. Lady Trevlyn, a beautiful, pale woman, delicate in health and melancholy in spirit, sat on a rustic seat with a book in her hand; not reading, but musing with an absent mind. As the child approached, she held out her hand to welcome her, but neither smiled nor spoke. “Mamma, here is a—a person to see you,” cried Lillian, rather at a loss how to designate the stranger, whose height and gravity now awed her. “A note from Colonel Daventry, my lady,” and with a bow the boy delivered the missive. Scarcely glancing at him, she opened it and read: My Dear Friend, The bearer of this, Paul Jex, has been with me some months and has served me well. I brought him from Paris, but he is English born, and, though friendless, prefers to remain here, even after we leave, as we do in a week. When I last saw you you mentioned wanting a lad to help in the garden; Paul is accustomed to that employment, though my wife used him as a sort of page in the house. Hoping you may be able to give him shelter, I venture to send him. He is honest, capable, and trustworthy in all respects. Pray try him, and oblige, Yours sincerely, J. R. Daventry .................. “The place is still vacant, and I shall be very glad to give it to you, if you incline to take it,” said Lady Trevlyn, lifting her eyes from the note and scanning the boy’s face. “I do, madam,” he answered respectfully. “The colonel says you are English,” added the lady, in a tone of surprise. The boy smiled, showing a faultless set of teeth, as he replied, “I am, my lady, though just now I may not look it, being much tanned and very dusty. My father was an Englishman, but I’ve lived abroad a good deal since he died, and got foreign ways, perhaps.” As he spoke without any accent, and looked full in her face with a pair of honest blue eyes under the dark lashes, Lady Trevlyn’s momentary doubt vanished. “Your age, Paul?” “Sixteen, my lady.” “You understand gardening?” “Yes, my lady.” “And what else?” “I can break horses, serve at table, do errands, read aloud, ride after a young lady as groom, illuminate on parchment, train flowers, and make myself useful in any way.” The tone, half modest, half eager, in which the boy spoke, as well as the odd list of his accomplishments, brought a smile to Lady Trevlyn’s lips, and the general air of the lad prepossessed her. “I want Lillian to ride soon, and Roger is rather old for an escort to such a little horsewoman. Don’t you think we might try Paul?” she said, turning to Hester. The woman gravely eyed the lad from head to foot, and shook her head, but an imploring little gesture and a glance of the handsome eyes softened her heart in spite of herself. “Yes, my lady, if he does well about the place, and Parks thinks he’s steady enough, we might try it by-and-by.” Lillian clapped her hands and, drawing nearer, exclaimed confidingly, as she looked up at her new groom, “I know he’ll do, Mamma. I like him very much, and I hope you’ll let him train my pony for me. Will you, Paul?” “Yes.” As he spoke very low and hastily, the boy looked away from the eager little face before him, and a sudden flush of color crossed his dark cheek. Hester saw it and said within herself, “That boy has good blood in his veins. He’s no clodhopper’s son, I can tell by his hands and feet, his air and walk. Poor lad, it’s hard for him, I’ll warrant, but he’s not too proud for honest work, and I like that.” “You may stay, Paul, and we will try you for a month. Hester, take him to Parks and see that he is made comfortable. Tomorrow we will see what he can do. Come, darling, I am rested now.” As she spoke, Lady Trevlyn dismissed the boy with a gracious gesture and led her little daughter away. Paul stood watching her, as if forgetful of his companion, till she said, rather tartly, “Young man, you’d better have thanked my lady while she was here than stare after her now it’s too late. If you want to see Parks, you’d best come, for I’m going.” “Is that the family tomb yonder, where you found me asleep?” was the unexpected reply to her speech, as the boy quietly followed her, not at all daunted by her manner. “Yes, and that reminds me to ask how you got in, and why you were napping there, instead of doing your errand properly?” “I leaped the fence and stopped to rest before presenting myself, Miss Hester” was the cool answer, accompanied by a short laugh as he confessed his trespass. “You look as if you’d had a long walk; where are you from?” “London.” “Bless the boy! It’s fifty miles away.” “So my shoes show; but it’s a pleasant trip in summer time.” “But why did you walk, child! Had you no money?” “Plenty, but not for wasting on coaches, when my own stout legs could carry me. I took a two days’ holiday and saved my money for better things.” “I like that,” said Hester, with an approving nod. “You’ll get on, my lad, if that’s your way, and I’ll lend a hand, for laziness is my abomination, and one sees plenty nowadays.” “Thank you. That’s friendly, and I’ll prove that I am grateful. Please tell me, is my lady ill?” “Always delicate since Sir Richard died.” “How long ago was that?” “Ten years or more.” “Are there no young gentlemen in the...