The Mermaid in the Basement Read Free Page A

me up and tossed me aside like a peeling of an orange. Well”—he shrugged his shoulders— “I survived. Come along, Dylan. Let’s get something to eat.”

TWO
    T he late afternoon sunlight filtered down through the large chestnut trees, throwing a latticework of light and shadow on a small young boy and a large dog. David Trent, the future Viscount of Radnor, was tugging at the huge mastiff. The large creature stood looking at the seven-year-old, then with obvious affection licked the boy thoroughly on the face.
    “Oh, stop that, Napoleon!” the boy cried. “You’re not playing the game.”
    Charles David Trent had a wealth of fair hair with a distinct curl in it. His eyes were the dark blue one sees sometimes offshore, with just a touch of aquamarine.He was lean, with the hint of a tall frame concealed within his small body and revealed by the length of his fingers and his relatively long legs.
    “Come on now. You’ve got to be a French dog.” David pulled the mastiff around and, with much huffing and puffing, pushed him into position.
    “Now I’m the Duke of Wellington, and you are the nasty old Frenchman Napoleon.We’re going to have a battle, and I’m going to win.”
    “Woof!”
    “That’s right. Now you stay right there. I’m going over to that tree, and when I get there I’m going to turn, and I’m going to charge you on a horse. I’ll be waving my sword, and I’m going to kill you.”
    “Woof!”
    David ran toward the tree quickly, but he did not get far before Napoleon loped after him.With a cry, David turned and threw his arms around the dog’s neck. The big mastiff fell on the ground, and the boy crawled all over him. His face flushed with excitement, David cried out, “I win! You’re dead, Napoleon, you nasty old Frenchman!”
    From the shadows of the barn, a young man approached. He was a lean young fellow of fifteen with a thin expressive face and watchful green eyes. He wore a pair of tight-fitting trousers, neat black boots, and a red-and- white checked shirt. Sandy hair escaped from under his loose cap.
    “Wot yer doin’ now, Master Trent?”
    David loosened his grip on Napoleon, rose, and sat down on the big dog’s side, whereupon the dog grunted but did not move.
    “I’m playing Army.”
    “Are you now? Yer a soldier, are you?”
    “Yes, I’m the Duke of Wellington, and I just whipped Napoleon here at the Battle of Waterloo. My mum read me the story out of the history book this morning. I won, didn’t I, Napoleon?”
    “Woof!”
    “Well, a’course yer won. An Englishman can wallop a Frog any day.”
    David was a rather literal young fellow. “I didn’t say anything about frogs.”
    Danny Spears, the groom for Viscountess Serafina Trent, laughed.He said in his definite Cockney accent, “Don’t yer know nuffin’? We calls Frenchmen Frogs .”
    “Why do we call them that?”
    “’Cause they eat ’em.”
    “They eat frogs alive?”
    “No, I suppose they cooks ’em, but it just shows ’ow backwards they be.”
    “Did you ever eat a frog, Danny?”
    “Wot do yer fink I am? The closest I ever come to it was jellied eel.
    Now there’s a proper dish for you!”
    “I’d like to try a frog.Maybe we could catch one.”
    “Nah, you hafter go at night and stab the boogers.”
    The young future Viscount of Radnor’s mind shifted rapidly. “I want to ride Patches.”
    “Well, yer can’t.”
    “He’s my pony.”
    “I knows that, but your mum says yer couldn’t ride ’im today.”
    David glared at Danny and stuck his lip out in a gesture of defiance. “When I get big, and when I’m the Viscount of Radnor, I’m going to do everything I want to do.”
    Danny Spears laughed, a cheerful light in his eyes. “Blimey, boy! Not even ’er Majesty can do that.”
    “Yes, she can. Queen Victoria can do anything she wants.”
    “Well, you just keep on thinkin’ that, Master Trent.”
    David leapt up off the dog, and Napoleon got to his feet. “Let’s go down