It was close upon midnight; and from eight,
without so much as a word or a question, he had sat at the dinner-table
listening. Yet even now he rose with reluctance.
"Must I go, father?" he asked, and the general's guests intervened in
a chorus. The conversation was clear gain to the lad, a first taste of
powder which might stand him in good stead afterwards.
"Besides, it's the boy's birthday," added the major of artillery. "He
wants to stay; that's plain. You wouldn't find a youngster of fourteen
sit all these hours without a kick of the foot against the table-leg
unless the conversation entertained him. Let him stay, Feversham!"
For once General Feversham relaxed the iron discipline under which the
boy lived.
"Very well," said he. "Harry shall have an hour's furlough from his bed.
A single hour won't make much difference."
Harry's eyes turned toward his father, and just for a moment rested
upon his face with a curious steady gaze. It seemed to Sutch that they
uttered a question, and, rightly or wrongly, he interpreted the question
into words:--
"Are you blind?"
But General Feversham was already talking to his neighbours, and Harry
quietly sat down, and again propping his chin upon his hands, listened
with all his soul.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25