01 The Building of Jalna by Mazo de La Roche

were dazed, though the poultry bore the adventure best. Maggie, the little goat which had been sent for Augusta’s nourishment, was the one exception. She seemed not to have suffered at all from the experience but trotted off on her little hoofs, her bell tinkling. One of the sailors had taken a fancy to her and had combed her long silvery hair. As she was led from the pier she saw a small patch of green and hastened to tear off a mouthful and munch it.
    Boney, too, had borne the voyage well. The rolling of the ship had been a pleasure to him. To hang head downward was one of his diversions. He left the ship, sitting on Adeline’s shoulder. His beak was parted in what looked like a smile of triumph. His dark tongue was a wonder to the crowd who soon collected about her.
    “You had better have carried him in his cage,” said Philip.
    “Indeed I had,” she agreed, “and I’d put him in it now but it’s far behind with the stewardess, and it’s a heavy thing to carry.”
    The truth was she enjoyed the sensation they were making. She smiled and nodded at the crowd in a way that delighted them.
    “Och, see the fine lady with the bird!” someone cried. “Come quick! ’Tis a sight to beat all!”
    Others came running. “Bad cess to ye,” cried one, giving his fellow a clout, “’tis yourself that do be hidin’ the view of her. Sure, I can’t see her at all.”
    The crowd increased. If the sight of Adeline with the parrot was enthralling, the sight of the ayah in her robes with the white-clad child in her arms and, in the child’s arms, the beautiful wax doll increased the excitement to screaming point. The two Irishmen, D’Arcy and Brent, shouldered the crowd aside. Patsy had heard of a carriage that could be hired and presently it came rattling over the cobbles, drawn by a decrepit-looking grey horse who still could move with a strange devil-may-care alacrity.
    Adeline found the priest’s young nieces and asked them where they would stay while repairs were being made. They were weighed down with bundles and looked scarcely so bright and rosy as when they had set out. They had a friend in the town with whom they would leave their possessions. Then they would walk the ten miles to their uncle’s house, spend the night with him, then go home for a sight of their parents. They looked more troubled than happy at the prospect.
    “Faith, the last good-bye near killed our mother,” said the older girl, “and the next one will be worse but she’d think it quare and cruel of us if we didn’t go back to see her.”
    “I can hardly wait,” said the other, “to see her and my da and all the young ones agin. Sure we’ll have things to tell thim to frighten the life out of thim.”
    “Don’t you do it,” said Adeline. “Tell her the sea was as smooth as a pewter plate and the wind no more than a baby’s breath. Tell her that only a wee board came loose on the ship but the Captainwas so particular he brought us all the way back to Galway to have it set right. Tell her that I have my eye on you and mean to keep it there till we land in Canada.”
    “Yes, my lady,” they agreed, showing their fine teeth, “we’ll tell her what you say. We’ll niver say a word to scare her.”
    Adeline watched them trudge off with their bundles. She could see the snowy whiteness of their napes beneath their curling dark hair. Now she thought of Mrs. Cameron and Mary. She gave a sigh, feeling suddenly the weight of responsibility for all these weaker creatures.
    She saw Philip putting mother and daughter into the carriage. The ayah and Gussie were already in. He called out: —
    “Make haste, my dear! Let’s get away from here.” An impatient frown dented his fair forehead.
    Up the cobbled street the carriage rattled, followed by part of the crowd. Many of them were boys and girls who jumped up and down screaming in their excitement. Philip and the young Courts walked. Philip disliked being a part of such a procession but