The Exile Breed by Charles Egan

Author:Charles Egan [Egan, Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781781324530
Google: ijmljgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1781324522
Publisher: SilverWood Books
Published: 2015-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Freeman’s Journal, Dublin, November 1847:

We have been informed that in the neighbourhood of Belmullet, and within the Mullet, instantaneous death from starvation can only be expected – that the people are already sinking into premature graves from lack of food – and that disease is rapid in its ravages. We regret to say that Belmullet is not the only district where destitution exists. In the populous islands in the Clew Bay and along the sea coasts, the peasantry are in the most dreadful condition. Hundreds are at this moment solely dependent for support on turnip leaves boiled, with a sprinkling of raw meal, which in a very few days will be consumed. And we have been assured, by an official who visited Clare Island and Innisturk that he saw several emaciated wretches expiring in agonies from utter want.

Luke’s letter arrived.

Eleanor had been feeding the hens when she saw the postman riding out from Kilduff. She was too frightened to hope. Many times she had watched him ride past with no letter. This time he stopped. She held her breath, as he dismounted and walked across.

‘Where’s it from?’

The postman peered at the postmark. ‘Quebec, by the looks of it.’

Eleanor took the letter, her hands trembling.

‘Good news, I hope,’ the postman said, but Eleanor had already seen the handwriting.

‘It can only be good news,’ she said.

She went into the kitchen where Winnie was still washing the crockery and pots. Without a word, she placed the letter on the table.

Winnie glanced across to her. ‘You’re quick feeding the hens.’

She saw the letter.

‘Oh God!’

She ran over and tore the letter open, then she broke down crying.

‘What’s wrong, alanna?’ Eleanor asked, alarmed.

‘Alive. He’s alive.’

‘Sure I’d worked that out. He wouldn’t be writing letters, and he dead. But what does he say? What’s wrong?’

Winnie took a quick look through the rest of the letter, gulping and trying to draw her breath.

‘He’s in Quebec, in good health.’

‘Thank God for that. Sure it’s like I always told you, he’s a tough fellow.’

‘He had no fever. He’s working in a saw-mill. He’ll go logging in the forest, and then head towards New York.’

She stopped.

‘What else does he have to say? What’s upsetting you?’ Eleanor asked.

‘He’ll write again when he has a fixed address.’

She gazed up at Eleanor.

‘But I won’t be able to travel to America until has an address and he tells me to,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that the way of it?’

The two women walked up the back fields to where Michael was re-building a stone wall. Eleanor handed him the letter, wordlessly. He glanced through it.

‘He’s alive,’ he said.

‘He is,’ Eleanor replied.

‘Three pounds!’

‘Yes,’ Eleanor said. ‘For food.’

Late that night, Pat arrived from Knockanure. Shyly, Winnie handed him the letter before he had taken off his greatcoat. He looked through it rapidly and then read it a second time.

‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘I’d feared the worst.’

‘As had we all,’ Eleanor said.

‘Aye, but none of ye mentioned it, did ye?’

‘We didn’t want worrying you,’ Eleanor said.

‘Arra, wasn’t I worried enough already,’ Pat said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.