i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

were a Catholic or not. She suddenly stopped, and before Kate could answer said, "Oh, it's all right, I don't want to go." She saw that Kate looked very white and that the needle in her hand with which she was mending her socks was shaking.

She took off her outdoor things and sat down near Kate.

"The postman's doing a late round, he's loaded with parcels and things," she said.

Kate looked at her, and Annie hung her head. She didn't know what had made her say it.

"I didn't mean to say it, Kate," she whispered, her lip trembling.

"It's all right, my dear, but he won't be coming here."

It was just then the knock came: rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat- tat. They looked at each other, startled.

Til go," cried Annie, and was through the front-room in a flash.

Kate stood, awaiting her return; the socks lay on the mat.

Annie came running back into the kitchen: "It's a card, Kate," she said. j Kate read the printed buff-coloured card. She read it |

again. She turned it over, and back, and re-read it. i She sat down in a chair: "It's the doctor, Annie. He's ;

safe," she said in a voice scarcely above a whisper; 'he's a |

prisoner."

Annie shivered. She had forgotten what it was like to feel that shiver of delight; the greyness went out of the day, out of all the things that made up her life; every thing was bright and shining again.

"Oh, Kate!" she cried, and flung her arms about her.

"Oh, Kate, he'll be coming back! Oh, Kate!"

"Yes, my dear, he'll be coming back," she said, pressing Annie fiercely to her and rocking her like a child.

Rosie Mullen opened the back-door, unobserved. She stood for a moment wide-eyed before closing it again.

She ran into her own yard, calling, "Kate and Annie's howling the house down, ma."

"Oh, my, that'll mean Sarah's gone!" Mrs. Mullen hurried out, with Rosie at her heels.

"It it Sarah?" she asked, bursting in on Kate.

Kate shook her head: "No, Mrs. Mullen ... it's.... Look 1' She handed the card to Mrs. Mullen.

Mrs. Mullen read it laboriously.

"Oh, lass, I am glad. A prisoner! Oh, I am glad. You'll be Ai again now."

She put her arm about Kate's shoulder and pulled her head to her much-used breast: "There, lass, there 1 Have a good cry, it'll do you good."

Rosie watched her mother in bewilderment; she wasn't only telling Kate to cry, but she was starting to cry her self. Never before had she seen as much as a tear on her face; they weren't a crying lot, the Mullens; only the babies cried, and they soon had that knocked out of them. She didn't cry; not even at that time when her mother had swiped her lug so hard that she had turned a somersault and landed upside down in the bottom of the cupboard. She looked at Annie . she was howling awful.

Rosie began to experience a queer feeling, like pins and needles, in her nose, and a bit of brick seemed to have stuck edgeways in her throat. Her face crumpled up, and, try as she might, she was unable to straighten it out.

Mr. Mullen came in, saying, "Anything I can do, lass?... Is it Sarah?"

Mrs. Mullen shook her head at him: "No, it isn't Sarah ... Kate's had a bit of good news, that's all."

He stopped dead, gazing at the four of them.

"My God! Then what you all blaring for? Crikey 1 Did you ever see such a lot of bloody fools!

I suppose if it was bad news you'd have a damn good laugh, eh? And you'--he pointed to his daughter, the daughter who, he prided himself, was a chip of the old block, the male block-- 'don't tell me you're piping too! "

"I ain't," protested Rosie, endeavouring to straighten out her face, "I ain't... it's me nose, it's stopped up."

She managed to grin at her father, who grinned back. Then, turning to his wife, Mr. Mullen said, Tm off for a wet, and I hope I get happy enough to have a damn good cry! "

After he had gone, they looked at each other in silence for a moment, then, one after the other, they began to laugh; Rosie, her face all wet and her mouth wide open, was saying to herself, in relief, "By, lad, this is better 1 Me da's a one, ain't he? I wish Annie had a da like him, shed laugh more then."

Kate lay and listened to the carol singers; the card was on the pillow, half under her cheek; Annie lay curled into her back, fast asleep.

"While shepherds watched their flocks by night..." the voices rose to her from the street.

"Oh, God, watch over him," she prayed.

"Make the war soon end; bring him back safely.... And, oh, thank You, thank You, that he is alive."

' "Fear not," said he, for mighty dread has seized their troubled mind.

"

"No ... I will not fear. He will come back. I will fear nothing," she said to herself, 'not now; not even "him" "

She had lain awake, waiting for Tim to come in, dreading his footsteps on the stairs. She had dragged the big box that had for years acted as a cupboard and placed it across the door, for she felt now that not even Annie was a protection. But he had not come. She wondered if he had gone to Jarrow. Had the priest said anything to him?

Long after the carol singers had gone from the street she lay awake, waiting. Everywhere was silent; there was no more shouting, no more drunken singing, not even the echo of the carollers from the distance, just that uncanny quiet that seemed full of sound. So, when the footsteps came up the street,