Ouida, 1839-1908 / 2008-09-23 00:00:00
Don Silverio also was bathing. Adone, a little nude figure, as
white as alabaster in the hot light, for he was very fair of skin,
sprang suddenly out of the water on to the turf above where his
breeches and shirt had been left; he was in haste, for he had heard
his mother calling to him from their fields; an adder started out of
a coil of bindweed and would itself round his ankle as he stooped for
his clothes.
The priest, standing waist-deep in the river a few yards away, saw it
before the child did, and cried out to him: "Stand still till I come!
Be not afraid!" Adone understood, and, although trembling with terror
and loathing as he realised his danger, and felt the slimy clasp of
the snake, remained motionless as he was bidden to do. In a second of
time the priest had leaped through the water to his side, seized the
adder, and killed it.
"Good boy," he said to the child. "If you had moved your foot the
creature would have bitten you."
Adone's eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you, sir; thank you for mother," he said very gently, for he
was a shy child, though courageous.
The priest stroked his curls.
"There is death in the grass very often. We should not fear death,
but neither should we run risk of it uselessly, especially when we
have a mother whom it would grieve. Come and bathe at this spot, at
this hour, to-morrow and every day, if you like. I will be here and
look after you, you are little to be alone.
Read more
Parts:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13