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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 62/535
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The
rest
ate
their
supper
in
careful
silence
and
escaped
upstairs
as
soon
as
they
could
,
Paddy
reluctantly
following
.
To
him
,
his
religion
was
a
warmth
and
a
consolation
;
but
to
the
rest
of
his
family
it
was
something
rooted
in
fear
,
a
do-it-or-thou-shalt-be-damned
compulsion
.
When
they
had
gone
,
Father
Ralph
stretched
out
in
his
favorite
chair
,
staring
at
the
fire
,
smoking
a
cigarette
and
smiling
.
In
his
mind
's
eye
he
was
passing
the
Clearys
in
review
,
as
he
had
first
seen
them
from
the
station
yard
.
The
man
so
like
Mary
,
but
bowed
with
hard
work
and
very
obviously
not
of
her
malicious
disposition
;
his
weary
,
beautiful
wife
,
who
looked
as
if
she
ought
to
have
descended
from
a
landaulet
drawn
by
matched
white
horses
;
dark
and
surly
Frank
,
with
black
eyes
,
black
eyes
;
the
sons
,
most
of
them
like
their
father
,
but
the
youngest
one
,
Stuart
,
very
like
his
mother
,
he
'd
be
a
handsome
man
when
he
grew
up
;
impossible
to
tell
what
the
baby
would
become
;
and
Meggie
.
The
sweetest
,
the
most
adorable
little
girl
he
had
ever
seen
;
hair
of
a
color
which
defied
description
,
not
red
and
not
gold
,
a
perfect
fusion
of
both
.
And
looking
up
at
him
with
silver-grey
eyes
of
such
a
lambent
purity
,
like
melted
jewels
.
Shrugging
,
he
threw
the
cigarette
stub
into
the
fire
and
got
to
his
feet
.
He
was
getting
fanciful
in
his
old
age
;
melted
jewels
,
indeed
!
More
likely
his
own
eyes
were
coming
down
with
the
sandy
blight
.
In
the
morning
he
drove
his
overnight
guests
to
Drogheda
,
so
inured
by
now
to
the
landscape
that
he
derived
great
amusement
from
their
comments
.
The
last
hill
lay
two
hundred
miles
to
the
east
;
this
was
the
land
of
the
black
soil
plains
,
he
explained
.
Just
sweeping
,
lightly
timbered
grasslands
as
flat
as
a
board
.
The
day
was
as
hot
as
the
previous
one
,
but
the
Daimler
was
a
great
deal
more
comfortable
to
travel
in
than
the
train
had
been
.
And
they
had
started
out
early
,
fasting
,
Father
Ralph
's
vestments
and
the
Blessed
Sacrament
packed
carefully
in
a
black
case
.
"
The
sheep
are
dirty
!
"
said
Meggie
dolefully
,
gazing
at
the
many
hundreds
of
rusty-red
bundles
with
their
questing
noses
down
into
the
grass
.
"
Ah
,
I
can
see
I
ought
to
have
chosen
New
Zealand
,
"
the
priest
said
.
"
It
must
be
like
Ireland
,
then
,
and
have
nice
cream
sheep
.
"
"
Yes
,
it
is
like
Ireland
in
many
ways
;
it
has
the
same
beautiful
green
grass
.
But
it
's
wilder
,
a
lot
less
tamed
,
"
Paddy
answered
.
He
liked
Father
Ralph
very
much
.
Just
then
a
group
of
emus
lurched
to
their
feet
and
commenced
to
run
,
fleet
as
the
wind
,
their
ungainly
legs
a
blur
,
their
long
necks
stretched
out
.
The
children
gasped
and
burst
out
laughing
,
enchanted
at
seeing
giant
birds
which
ran
instead
of
flying
.
"
What
a
pleasure
it
is
not
to
have
to
get
out
and
open
these
wretched
gates
,
"
Father
Ralph
said
as
the
last
one
was
shut
behind
them
and
Bob
,
who
had
done
gate
duty
for
him
,
scrambled
back
into
the
car
.
After
the
shocks
Australia
had
administered
to
them
in
bewildering
rapidity
,
Drogheda
homestead
seemed
like
a
touch
of
home
,
with
its
gracious
Georgian
façade
and
its
budding
wistaria
vines
,
its
thousands
of
rose-bushes
