Altogether it was
rather a relief when they both left. Now, perhaps, you can understand my
appreciation of a sleepy countryside where things don't happen."
THE PENANCE
Octavian Ruttle was one of those lively cheerful individuals on whom
amiability had set its unmistakable stamp, and, like most of his kind,
his soul's peace depended in large measure on the unstinted approval of
his fellows. In hunting to death a small tabby cat he had done a thing
of which he scarcely approved himself, and he was glad when the gardener
had hidden the body in its hastily dug grave under a lone oak-tree in the
meadow, the same tree that the hunted quarry had climbed as a last effort
towards safety. It had been a distasteful and seemingly ruthless deed,
but circumstances had demanded the doing of it. Octavian kept chickens;
at least he kept some of them; others vanished from his keeping, leaving
only a few bloodstained feathers to mark the manner of their going. The
tabby cat from the large grey house that stood with its back to the
meadow had been detected in many furtive visits to the hen-coups, and
after due negotiation with those in authority at the grey house a
sentence of death had been agreed on.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67