United States or Christmas Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Zalia, the procession's going up the wall there.... Why don't you look?... It's so beautiful!... And I, I'm the only ugly one in it...." "He's wandering," whispered Treze. "And what's that chap doing here, Zalia?" "It's I, Zeen, I: Warten the spectacle-man." His eyes fell to again and his cheeks again blew the breath through the little slit of his mouth. It rattled; and the fever rose.
The door opened and from behind the screen came a great big fellow with a black beard: "What's up here? A whole gathering of people: is it harvest-treat to-day, Zalia? Why, here's Barbara and Mite and...." "Warten, Zeen is ill." "Zeen?... Ill?" "Yes, ill, man, and we're sitting up."
And Zeen, to say something, said: "Yes, it is, Zalia, but I'd like to go to sleep, I'm feeling cold now and I've got needles sticking into my side ... here, see?" And he pressed both his hands on the place. "Yes, you're better in bed; it'll be gone in the morning and we'll fetch in the corn." "Is it cut?" "All done and stooked; if it keeps fine to-morrow, we'll get it all into the barn."
Zalia made the sign of the Cross and closed her husband's eyes; then she laid a white towel on a little table by the bed and put the candle on it and the crucifix and the holy water. Warten and Barbara took Zeen out of the bed and put him on a chair, washed him all over with luke-warm water, put a clean shirt on him and his Sunday clothes over him; then they laid him on the bed again.
"In France, the two oldest ... and there's Miel, the soldier ... it's in their letters, behind the glass." "Give 'em to me," said Treze. "I'll make my boy write to-morrow, before he goes to school." They were going off. "And I, who, with this all, don't know where I'm to sleep," said Warten. "My old roost, over the goat-house: you'll be wanting that to-night, Zalia?" Zalia wavered.
"We haven't any mustard and it's far to the village." "Then he must have a bran bath, Zalia. Stanse, put on the kettle." "Have you any bran, Zalia?" "No, not ready; but there's maize." "And a sieve?" "Yes, there's a sieve." "Hi, Warten, come and sift!" Warten came in: "Zeen, how are you, my boy? Oh, how thin he is! And his breath ... it's spluttering, that's bad.
"The Arab, Makar Makalo, is the ringleader, sir," said Melton, "but he is only acting for Rao Khan, the Emir of Harar, who has long desired the port of Zalia." "A swift retribution will come," replied the colonel, "but it will come too late to aid us." No person seemed inclined to talk.
The tobacco-seed will be tainted!" screamed Mite; and she snatched down two or three linen bags which hung from the rafters and carried them outside. First they moaned; then they tried to comfort one another, especially Zalia, who had dropped into a chair and turned very pale.
She was given a lump of sugar and sat down by her mother. "Zalia, have you only one lamp?" asked Treze. "That's all, Treze, but I have the candle." "What candle?" "The blessed candle." "We've not come to that yet: it's only that Zeen has to lie in the dark like this and we have to go to and fro with the lamp to look at him." "Zeen would rather lie in the dark."
"Hurry, hurry, Virginie: he's almost stopped breathing!" The cat jumped between Zalia and Treze on to the bed and went making dough with its front paws on the clothes; it looked surprised at all those people and purred softly. Warten drove it away with his cap. "Receive, O Lord, Thy servant Zeen into the place of salvation which he hopes to obtain through Thy mercy." "Amen," they all answered.
Word Of The Day