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Updated: May 7, 2025
The doors of Scaw House clanged behind him and at once he was aware that his father had to be faced. Supper was eaten in silence. Peter watched his father and his grandfather. Here were the three of them alone. What his grandfather was his father would one day be, what his father was, he ... yes, he must escape.
Then there was absolute silence in the house. The servants, who had heard the tumbling of the furniture, crept, frightened to bed. Thus The Roundabout, dark, utterly without sound, stayed through the night. Once, from the chair by the window in the little drawing-room a voice said, "I'm going back to Scaw House to my father. I'm going back to all of them."
Think it over. 'Look here! I shall have to make the girl an allowance. 'There's the filter-works. Don't be stingy. Joseph was growing very red in the face. He drank glass after glass; he flung his arms about; he capered. 'Damn me if you shall call me that, Scaw! Two hundred it shall be. But what was the old cove up to? Why did he destroy the other will? What would the new one have been?
There is also the monument of Laurids Ebbesen who had been unfaithful to the king, who, when he visited the Domkirke, cut the nose off the monumental figure with his sword. The ship which is hung up in the Domkirke, is a model which Peter the Great of Russia had made in France, and it was sent by a French vessel from Toulon, which was wrecked at the Scaw, or, as we call it, Skagen.
But his rage now, he also felt, was beyond all reason, something that belonged to that other part of him, the part that Scaw House and its dark room understood and so terribly fostered. He was afraid of what he might do. On opening the nursery door he saw the straight, thin, shining back of Mrs. Kant as she bent to put things straight. Young Stephen was quietly asleep.
Sometimes he felt that he must run away altogether, go up to Scaw House and leave her to die alone; then he knew that that cruelty at any rate was not in him. One day he thought her brutal and interfering, another day it seemed that it was he who was the tyrant. He reminded himself of all the things that she had done for him all the things, and he could not grant her this one request.
Peter told him a great deal not quite everything. He told him nothing, for instance, about meeting a certain young lady on a Good Friday afternoon and he passed over some of the Scaw House incidents as speedily as possible. "And since I came up to London," he went on, "the whole of my time has been spent either in the bookshop or the boarding-house.
Of that moon, of those stars, of that mighty city, he would make one little stone that might be added to that Eternal Temple of Beauty.... He turned from his window and thought of other things. He thought of his father and Scaw House, of the windy day when his mother was buried, of Mr.
The name of the place is Vendale; and if you want to see it for yourself, you must go up into the High Craven, and search from Bolland Forest north by Ingleborough, to the Nine Standards and Cross Fell; and if you have not found it, you must turn south, and search the Lake Mountains, down to Scaw Fell and the sea; and then, if you have not found it, you must go northward again by merry Carlisle, and search the Cheviots all across, from Annan Water to Berwick Law; and then, whether you have found Vendale or not, you will have found such a country, and such a people, as ought to make you proud of being a British boy.
During these weeks one day slipped into another. No incidents marked their preparation but up at Scaw House they were marching to no mean climax every hour hurried the issue and Peter, meanwhile, as February came whistling and storming upon the world, grew, with every chiming of the town clock, more morose, more sullen, more silent ... there were times when he thought of ending it all.
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