Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (e book free reading TXT) 📖
- Author: L. T. Meade
Book online «Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (e book free reading TXT) 📖». Author L. T. Meade
The sound of a laugh came from the darkness behind her, and the next instant the startled girl saw the big form of Andy Neil approaching.
“Don't you be frightened, Miss Nora,” he said. “I aint the Banshee, but I am as good. Faix, now, I want to say something to you. I have come here for the purpose. There! don't be frightened. I won't hurt ye—not I; but I want yez to promise me something.”
“What is that?” said Nora.
“I have come here for the purpose. She aint no good.” He indicated with a motion of his thumb the distant form of Biddy within the dark recess of the cave.
“Does Miss Murphy know you have followed me?” said Nora.
“No, she don't know it; she's in the dark. There's the little lad Mike will look after her. She won't do nothing until we go back.”
“Oh, I did want to see the Banshee!”
“The Banshee may come or not,” said the man; “but I have my message to yez, and it is this: If you don't get Squire O'Shanaghgan to let me keep my little bit of land, and to see that I aint evicted, why, I'll—you're a bonny lass, you're as purty a young lady as I ever set eyes on, but I'll drownd yez, deep down here in this hole. No one will ever know; they'll think you has fallen and got drowned without no help from me. Yes, I'll do it—yes, I will—unless you promises that Squire O'Shanaghgan shan't evict me. If I go out, why, you goes out first. Now, you'll do it; you'll swear that you'll do it? You'll leave no stone unturned. You'll get 'em to leave me my cabin where I was born, and the childer was born, and where the wife died, or I'll drownd yez deep down here in the Banshee's hole. Look!” said the man as the moon nickered on a deep pool of water; “they say there is no bottom to it. Just one shlip, and over you goes, and nobody will ever see Nora O'Shanaghgan again.”
“I'm not going to be frightened; you wouldn't do it, Andy,” said the girl.
“Wouldn't I just? You think that I'd be afraid?”
“I don't think so. I am sure you are afraid of nothing.”
“Then why shouldn't I do it?”
“Because you wouldn't be so bad, not to an innocent girl who never harmed you.”
“Oh! wouldn't I just? Ain't I a-stharving, and aint the childer stharving, and why should they turn us out of our bit of a cabin? Swear you'll do it; swear you won't have me evicted; you has got to promise.”
“I wouldn't evict you—never, never!” said Nora. “Oh, never!” she added, tears, not of fright, but of pity, filling her eyes. “But how can I control my father?”
“That's for you to see to, missy; I must go back now, or we'll none of us leave this cave alive. But you'll just shlip into that water, and you'll never be heard of again unless you promises. I'll go back; they none of 'em will know I followed yez. You'll be drowned here in the deep pool, and I'll go back to the boat, or you promises and we both goes back.”
“But, Andy, what am I to promise?”
“That you won't have me evicted. You say solemn here: 'Andrew Neil, I would rather die myself or have my tongue cut out, and may the Holy Mother cast me from her presence forever, and may the evil spirits take me, if I don't save you, Andy.' You has to say that.”
“No, I won't,” said Nora with sudden spirit. “I am not afraid. I'll do my very, very best for you; but I won't say words like those.”
The man looked at her attentively.
“I was a little frightened at first,” continued Nora; “but I am not now. I would rather you pushed me into that pool, I would rather sink and die, than take an awful vow like that. I won't take it. I'll do my very best to save you, but I won't make a vow.”
“Faix, then, miss, it's you that has the courage; but now if I let yez off this time, will ye do yer best?”
“Yes, I'll do my best.”
“If yer don't, bonny as you are, and the light of somebody's eyes, you'll go out of the world. But, come, I trust yez, and we must be turning back.”
The man took the matches from his pocket, struck one, and lit the candle. Then, Andy going in front of Nora, they both turned in the direction where the boat was waiting for them.
CHAPTER VII. — THE MURPHYS.
It was between two and three in the morning when the girls found themselves back again in the desolate mansion of Cronane. Biddy had left a window open; they had easily got in by it and gone up to Biddy's big room on the first floor. They were to sleep together in Biddy's small bed. Personally, discomforts did not affect them; they had never been accustomed to luxury, and rather liked the sense of hardship than otherwise.
“I brought up a bit of supper beforehand,” said Biddy. “I am real hungry. What do you say to cold bacon and taters—eh? I went down to the larder and got a good few early this morning. I put them in the cupboard in a brown bowl with a plate over it. You're hungry—aren't you, Norrie?”
“No, not very,” answered Nora.
“What's come to you, you're so quiet? You have lost all your spirit. I thought we would have a real rollicking time over our supper, laughing and talking, and telling our adventures. Oh! it was awful in that cave; and when you were away talking to the lady Banshee I did have a time of it. I thought that awful Andy was going to murder me. I had a sort of feeling that he was getting closer and closer, and I clutched hold of little Mike. I think he was a bit surprised; I'll give him a penny to-morrow, poor gossoon. But aren't you hungry, and won't you laugh, and shan't we have a jolly spree?”
“Oh, I shall be very glad to eat something,” said Nora; “and I am a little cold, too. I took a chill standing so long in that icy water.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear! it's the rheumatics you'll be getting, and then you'll lose your beautiful straight figure. I must rub your legs. There, sit on the bed and I'll begin.”
Nora submitted to Biddy's ministrations. The room
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