Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

182                                    KIDNAPPED.
James carried me accordingly into the kitchen, and
sat down with me at table, smiling and talking at first
in a very hospitable manner. But presently the gloom
returned upon him; he sat frowning, and biting his
fingers; only remembered me from time to time; and
then gave me but a word or two and a poor smile, and back
into his private terrors. His wife sat by the fire and
wept, with her face in her hands ; his eldest son was
crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass of
papers and now and again setting one alight and burn-
ing it to the bitter end ; all the while a servant lass
with a red face was rummaging about the room, in a
blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she went; and
every now and again one of the men would thrust in
his face from the yard, and cry for orders.
At last James could keep his seat no longer, and
begged my permission to be so unmannerly as walk
about. "I am but poor company altogether, sir," says
he, "but I can think of nothing but this dreadful
accident, and the trouble it is like to bring upon quite
innocent persons."
A little after he observed his son burning a paper,
which he thought should have been kept ; and at that
his excitement burst out so that it was painful to wit-
ness. He struck the lad repeatedly.
"Are you gone gyte*?" he cried. "Do you wish to
hang your father ?" and forgetful of my presence, car-
ried on at him a long time together in the Gaelic, the
*Mad.