When Last I Died Read Free

that would give a short holiday to about two-thirds of your numbers, would it not?"
    "The authorities would never allow it; and I should not like it myself," replied the Warden frankly. "We dare not spoil these boys. Sentiment, unfortunately, does not do. I am afraid they would take every possible advantage of such a scheme."
    "Including making their escape. I know. That is what makes it interesting," said Mrs. Bradley. The Warden shook his head.
    "It would never do. It wouldn't be good for them. After all, they're here as a punishment, you know."
    "I am afraid so, yes. A terribly immoral state of affairs."
    "And for guidance as well; and for the protection of society."
    "I know. If I were a caged tiger, do you know the people who would have to be protected against me if ever I made my escape?"
    "Yes, yes, all very well. I admit these boys have a grievance against society. But what can we do?"
    "I told the Government of ten years ago what we could do," said Mrs. Bradley. "Well, I shall look about for my house at the seaside, and when I find it I shall come to you again."
    The Warden felt that he could afford to smile, and therefore smiled. He even attempted light humour.
    "I could tell you of the very place," he said. "I have the address in my desk here. It once belonged to the aunt of the former housekeeper. Perhaps you remember her from your previous visit? She would still have been here then. About six years ago she retired, having inherited her aunt's money, but was dead within the year. Tried for murder, acquitted, and then committed suicide, poor creature, because people were so unkind. Sounds like something on the films, but it's perfectly true. The house belongs to an old servant now, I believe, who is glad to let it in the summer."
    "Boys or no boys, I should like to have that address," said Mrs. Bradley.
    "'No boys,' is more likely to be correct," said the Warden, almost good-naturedly. He could afford to be pleasant to the somewhat terrifying old woman, he concluded. She had brought back his truants for him, and, in any case, she was leaving the Institution in the morning.
    "Cynical old thing!" said Caroline Lestrange, looking up from Mrs. Bradley's letter.
    "No," said Ferdinand, glancing at their son, Derek, aged seven, who was advancing purposefully to the table with a set of the game called Tiddleywinks. "No, indeed she isn't. If mother says they ought to be put out, she is probably perfectly sincere and perfectly right. They must be the most unhappy little devils on earth, those delinquent kids. You can't really do anything for most of 'em. They're a mess, like Humpty Dumpty when he fell off the wall. She goes on to ask whether we'd care to lend her Derek for a bit. I'm all for it. She needs him, I expect, to get the taste of the others out of her mouth."
    His son came up and planted the game on the table. Then he surveyed his parents sternly.
    "You can both choose your colour," he said, "and I'll have what's left. There's blue and green and red and yellow and purple and white. I don't use the white. I only use the green and purple and yellow and blue and red. I don't like white. Do you like white, mother?"
    "No, thank you, darling," Caroline replied.
    "I'm not going to play," said his father, basely. "I've got this letter from Gran and I'd better answer it."
    He fled, pursued by the joint maledictions of his wife and son, who, thereafter, forgot him, and settled down to Tiddleywinks until it was Derek's bedtime.
    "Would you like to go and stay with Gran at the seaside for a bit?" asked Caroline, when she went in to say good-night. Her son's reply was brief but warm, and so by the middle of the following week all arrangements had been made.
    The house which Mrs. Bradley had rented was about a hundred yards from the sea, and was, from the child's point of view, admirably situated. Mrs. Bradley had fitted up her dressing-room for him, and there he had a camp bed and a chest of drawers. On the top of this