Escape From Home Read Free Page B

graciousness—to make known that it grieves him greatly to tumble these sometime homes of yours. But these are troubled days. All must make sacrifices. Rich and poor suffer alike. These dwellings that you have rented must be returned to his lordship if he’s to reclaim the land for increased productivity in the interests of greater good. You may trust in his superior judgment that it’s best for all.
    â€œNotwithstanding, his lordship deeply regrets your current inconvenience and begs, as a token of his deep esteem, that each of you will accept two shillings as traveling money for your pains.”
    There was some nervous shifting among the villagers, but most simply stared at the agent.
    â€œCome, come!” the man urged, his voice turning to a sneer. “I can offer the gift but once. Willy-nilly, we’ll be tumbling these dwellings, so don’t be standing on false pride, now. Here’s your good queen’s fair coin. You’ll be needing it.”
    Still, no one stirred.
    â€œYou there, Father Mahoney.”
    â€œYour Honor.”
    â€œYou should be teaching your people submission and the acceptance of charity. Charity is no sin. But surely pride is. I suppose even a papist knows that,” he added sarcastically.
    The priest, struggling to control his anger, replied, “Your Honor, these people have no place to go.”
    â€œNow, now, my good man. It’s general news that Mrs. O’Connell has a husband who went out to America and has become rich. Hasn’t he sent them money to go?”
    â€œThey are the only ones,” Father Mahoney said.
    â€œAh, with hope, Father, it’s only a start. One goes and gets rich and sends a remittance. Now three shall go and gain greater riches yet. No doubt the four will send money enough until all of Kilonny settles in America. It’s the promised land, they say.”
    â€œMr. Morgan,” the priest cried, “you are cruel to speak so.”
    The agent tapped his hat down so it sat more securely. “None of that, Father!” he cried. “None of that. You’re edging close to insurrection! Orders are orders, money is money, and the law proclaims it so.
    â€œNow then,” he pressed, “who’ll take Lord Kirkle’s generous gift? All right then, a double gift to the first one who steps forward. Four shillings! Four shillings now! Come along, pride goes before the fall!”
    He held up his hand to show the shining coins.
    A grizzled old man, cloth cap in hand, hobbled out from the stony-faced crowd and moved toward Mr. Morgan. The agent saluted him. “Well done, Mr. Foggerty!” he cried. “Well done! Here’s your four shillings, and welcome to them you are.” He leaned down from his saddle and dropped the shillings into the shaking uplifted hand. For Maura, the chink of each coin was like a church bell tolling a death.
    Old man Foggerty folded his crumpled fingers over the coins, replaced his cap, and, without a backward look, set off down the dirt road.
    â€œNo one else?” Mr. Morgan called. “Last chance.”
    A woman came forward. She also took the coins. Then slowly but surely the rest followed until they were standing as a group behind Mr. Morgan. Only the O’Connells were left.
    Patrick, who had been staring at the ground in a torment of frustration over the money, glanced up at Maura. Thinking her gaze was elsewhere, he took a step forward, only to have her reach out and pull him back.
    â€œNo!” she hissed under her breath. “It’s Judas money.”
    â€œBut we need it!” Patrick said.
    â€œNo!”
    â€œAll right then,” Mr. Morgan cried. “Constables!” He pointed to the O’Connells’ hut. “In America, I’m told, they live in grand places. So I’ll venture to say the proud O’Connells will have no more need for that. We’ll start there.”
    While the soldiers stood on guard,