The Patriot: A Novel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
sergeant, ‘This honorable foreign lady, who is our teacher, asks why I am arrested.’ “‘Tell her it’s not her affair,’ the sergeant replied loftily. “‘He says he is not allowed to say,’ I translated to Miss Maitland. “‘Now that’s just too silly!’ Miss Maitland said. ‘Tell him to get out and stop interfering—tell him he can’t come arresting my students like this—I’ll speak to the British consul!’ “I hesitated. “‘Tell him all I said!’ Miss Maitland commanded. “‘She says,’ I began, ‘she will
free. This house where she had plenty to eat and silk robes to wear was still only a prison. He thought, “She needs the revolution, too, to set her free.” In that moment he made up his mind that he would tell Peony everything. “Peony—” he began. His heart was beating like a clock now, very fast. She looked at him. “I want to tell you something,” he went on. “Yes?” she asked. “What is it?” “Peony, have you ever heard of the revolution?” “Of course I have,” she said. “It’s not a good thing.
if its ignorant people are allowed to do as they like?” He wanted to argue with his father. But he felt Peony touch his shoulder, warning him. It was like the coming of a storm. There was the disturbance among the people like the first rufflings of the wind over the country and sea, and then there was the intense waiting stillness. Again I-wan felt shut off from everyone. The schools of the city suddenly declared a holiday at the mayor’s demand in order that students could be dispersed and
settled himself steadily into the pattern of his days. They made, he told himself, a sort of life. All life, I-wan told himself now in the steady round of his days, went on as it was. If one struggled against it, it was not life that broke, but he. Sometimes in the solitude of his work or in his hours of reading and walking, for there were many solitary hours in his life in this quiet house, it seemed to him that all that had been until he came here was something he had dreamed and never done.
declared. “We will never leave this house. I should feel it an evil omen to leave it.” “Oh, and you a mobo!” she cried. “A mobo believing in omens!” They laughed together so heartily over this nothing that at last she wiped her eyes on her sleeves and demanded of him, “What were we talking about before we grew so silly, I-wan?” “I believe,” he said, “that you had said we are to have a child—a daughter, Tama.” “No, never—a son, of course!” she corrected him quickly. “I should like a small