登陆注册
5250500000021

第21章 TWO 1921-1928 Ralph(1)

The road to Drogheda brought back no memories of his youth, thought Father Ralph de Bricassart, eyes half shut against the glare as his new Daimler bounced along in the rutted wheel tracks that marched through the long silver grass. No lovely misty green Ireland, this. And Drogheda? No battlefield, no high seat of power. Or was that strictly true? Better disciplined these days but acute as ever, his sense of humor conjured in his mind an image of a Cromwellian Mary Carson dealing out her particular brand of imperial malevolence. Not such a highflown comparison, either; the lady surely wielded as much power and controlled as many individuals as any puissant war lord of elder days.

The last gate loomed up through a stand of box and stringybark; the car came to a throbbing halt. Clapping a disreputable grey broad-brimmed hat on his head to ward off the sun, Father Ralph got out, plodded to the steel bolt on the wooden strut, pulled it back and flung the gate open with weary impatience. There were twenty-seven gates between the presbytery in Gillanbone and Drogheda homestead, each one meaning he had to stop, get out of the car, open the gate, get into the car and drive it through, stop, get out, go back to close the gate, then get in the car again and proceed to the next one. Many and many a time he longed to dispense with at least half the ritual, scoot on down the track leaving the gates open like a series of astonished mouths behind him; but even the awesome aura of his calling would not prevent the owners of the gates from tarring and feathering him for it. He wished horses were as fast and efficient as cars, because one could open and close gates from the back of a horse without dismounting.

"Nothing is given without a disadvantage in it," he said, patting the dashboard of the new Daimler and starting off down the last mile of the grassy, treeless Home Paddock, the gate firmly bolted behind him. Even to an Irishman used to castles and mansions, this Australian homestead was imposing. Drogheda was the oldest and the biggest property in the district, and had been endowed by its late doting owner with a fitting residence. Built of butter-yellow sandstone blocks handhewn in quarries five hundred miles eastward, the house had two stories and was constructed on austerely Georgian lines, with large, many-paned windows and a wide, iron-pillared veranda running all the way around its bottom story. Gracing the sides of every window were black wooden shutters, not merely ornamental but useful; in the heat of summer they were pulled closed to keep the interior cool.

Though it was autumn now and the spindling vine was green, in spring the wistaria which had been planted the day the house was finished fifty years before was a solid mass of lilac plumes, rioting all over the outer walls and the veranda roof. Several acres of meticulously scythed lawn surrounded the house, strewn with formal gardens even now full of color from roses, wall- flowers, dahlias and marigolds. A stand of magnificent ghost gums with pallid white trunks and drifting thin leaves hanging seventy feet above the ground shaded the house from the pitiless sun, their branches wreathed 66 in brilliant magenta where bougainvillea vines grew intertwined with them. Even those indispensable Outback monstrosities the water tanks were thickly clothed in hardy native vines, roses and wistaria, and thus managed to look more decorative than functional. Thanks to the late Michael Carson's passion for Drogheda homestead, he had been lavish in the matter of water tanks; rumor had it Drogheda could afford to keep its lawns green and its flower beds blooming though no rain fell in ten years. As one approached down the Home Paddock the house and its ghost gums took the eye first, but then one was aware of many other yellow sandstone houses of one story behind it and to each side, interlocking with the main structure by means of roofed ramps smothered in creepers. A wide gravel driveway succeeded the wheel ruts of the track, curving to a circular parking area at one side of the big house, but also continuing beyond it and out of sight down to where the real business of Drogheda lay: the stockyards, the shearing shed, the barns. Privately Father Ralph preferred the giant pepper trees which shaded all these outbuildings and their attendant activities to the ghost gums of the main house. Pepper trees were dense with pale green fronds and alive with the sound of bees, just the right lazy sort of foliage for an Outback station.

As Father Ralph parked his car and walked across the lawn, the maid waited on the front veranda, her freckled face wreathed in smiles. "Good morning, Minnie," he said.

"Oh, Father, happy it is to see you this fine dear mornin"," she said in her strong brogue, one hand holding the door wide and the other outstretched to receive his battered, unclerical hat.

Inside the dim hall, with its marble tiles and greet brass-railed staircase, he paused until Minnie gave him a nod before entering the drawing room.

Mary Carson was sitting in her wing chair by an open window which extended fifteen feet from floor to ceiling, apparently indifferent to the cold air flooding in. Her shock of red hair was almost as bright as it had been in her youth; though the coarse freckled skin had picked up additional splotches from age, for a woman of sixty-five she had few wrinkles, rather a fine network of tiny diamond-shaped cushions like a quilted bedspread. The only clues to her intractable nature lay in the two deep fissures which ran one on either side of her Roman nose, to end pulling down the corners of her mouth, and in the stony look of the pale-blue eyes. Father Ralph crossed the Aubusson carpet silently and kissed her hands; the gesture sat well on a man as tall and graceful as he was, especially since he wore a plain black soutane which gave him something of a courtly air. Her expressionless eyes suddenly coy and sparkling, Mary Carson almost simpered. "Will you have tea, Father?" she asked.

同类推荐
  • 弥勒菩萨所问经论

    弥勒菩萨所问经论

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 夷门雪赠主人

    夷门雪赠主人

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 天圣广灯录

    天圣广灯录

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 异苑

    异苑

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 百论

    百论

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
热门推荐
  • 关于我转生变成狐狸这档事

    关于我转生变成狐狸这档事

    “明明是很平常的一天,可是为什么我的心那么焦躁呢?”此时已经入夜,下着雪。平日里人来人……
  • 山居新话

    山居新话

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 无敌辣条系统

    无敌辣条系统

    天道有轮回,傲世长于眠,我欲长生去,命定不由天!白字当头,王字垫下,单字为皇,皇权在手,天下无双。天恩浩荡,浩气长存,天地初开万物灵长,生灵是为人,精气是为妖,人善智,心善,妖善力,嗜血,人妖自诞生以来,斗争不断,妖以人为食,人以妖为敌,连绵数千年。
  • 仙魄至尊

    仙魄至尊

    前生他看懂最难的公式但是却看不懂人心,今生重生他看懂了人心,只想逍遥自在的过一生,可是命运却给他开了天大的玩笑一次……尽在仙魄至尊……
  • 黑煤

    黑煤

    客车摇摇晃晃跑着,双塔矿到了,下来几个穿着五颜六色衣服的乘客,又上来几个人。接着,客车浑身抖了抖,摇摇晃晃起来。黑色的轮胎动了,带起一大片灰褐色的尘土,呜呜地开过去,扬起的尘土飘荡在了坑坑洼洼的柏油路上。下车的人中有一位年轻人,他身穿滑溜溜蓝色的T恤,迈着青春跳跃的步子,给人以轻松愉悦的好感。他迅速走到别人前面,叫了一辆三轮摩托车,向着双塔矿的招待所驶去。前面一段路稍稍上坡,三轮摩托不慌不忙地嘟嘟爬着。
  • 招摇下堂妃:王爷,我罩你

    招摇下堂妃:王爷,我罩你

    一个梦境,让她穿越时空成了东夏国首富的掌上明珠。一顶花轿,将她抬进王府成了人人称羡的高贵王妃。新婚之日,那个发誓会对她好的人,不见人影就罢还敢带小妾回来?岂有此理,她要去谈判!岂料竟然弄巧成拙,被老公刮目相看!一段爱情,他许她目无一切、她却渐渐迷失自己。当她终于找回自己,他却不再是当初的那个他。他说:你滚开,我不需要你来怜悯!她说:我穿越千年来到这里,历尽千辛万苦才明白我爱你,你怎忍心让我离去?
  • 影之武者

    影之武者

    这是一个另类的武者世界,这是一个科技与武道并存的世界,这是一个人与影为一体的世界。
  • 金刚顶经毗卢遮那一百八尊法身契印

    金刚顶经毗卢遮那一百八尊法身契印

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 放开那个娘子

    放开那个娘子

    现代青年武直穿越到了古代,身揣着水火棍,做起了打虎英雄。别说这里空气就是好,娘子就是俏,在这样清新明媚的天地里,武直过起了潘驴邓小闲的如意生活,干起了文武双全的事业,开垦出一片全新的世界。放开那个娘子,让我来“招安”!天当被,地当床,繁花似锦芳草如席,蓝天白云是新房;朝习文,暮练武,柔情似水佳期如梦,牛郎织女齐入港!金莲,种田喽!大郎,今晚吃什么?老板,给我来两斤牛肉一瓶阔落记得要零度的。阮小七。客官,阔落被我家娘子喝光鸟本店良心推荐野猪1.0饮料,三碗不过岗。武直。这方便面真好吃还能集一张梁山好汉卡。西门庆。清明上河图就是在天王堂享受着美食画成的。张择端。直则万世之公道伸,平则天下之人心服。
  • 偃溪广闻禅师语录

    偃溪广闻禅师语录

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。