After the visit of the rival, Lucy had
come to stay. And then Ricky had started for Charity's while he had gone
down to the bayou where he met Jeems. That was it. Jeems!
When Ricky had hinted that he knew more of the swamp than the Ralestones
did, why had he been so quick to resent that remark? Could it be because
he understood her to mean that he knew more of Pirate's Haven than they
did?
And the thing in the Long Hall last night had known of some exit in the
wall that the Ralestones did not know of. It had faded into the base of
the staircase. And yet, when Val had gone over the paneling there inch
by inch, he had gained nothing but sore finger tips.
He tucked his shirt under his belt and looked down to see if Sam Junior
had polished his boots as Lucy had ordered her son to do. Save for a
trace of mud by the right heel, they had the proper mirror-like surface.
"Mistuh Val," Lucy's penetrating voice made him start guiltily, "is yo'
or is yo' not comin' to brekfas'?"
"I am," he answered and started downstairs at his swiftest pace.
The new ruler of their household was standing at the foot of the stairs,
her knuckles resting on her broad hips. She eyed the boy sternly. Lucy
eyed one, Val thought, much as a Scotch nurse Ricky and he had once had.
They had never dared question any of Annie's decrees, and one look from
her had been enough to reduce them to instant order.
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