Cave of Secrets Read Online Free PDF

high in the air, their song falling to earth like liquid sunshine.
    Tom said, ‘I never knew the bay was so beautiful.’
    ‘Beautiful?’ Donal was surprised. He had never thought of the bay as beautiful though he saw it almost every day of his life. ‘Can’t you see it from your house?’ he asked Tom.
    ‘Only in the distance.’
    ‘Does that make a difference?’
    Tom nodded. ‘All the difference in the world. Do those islands out there have names?’
    ‘They do have names,’ said Donal. ‘Every place made by God has a name. The big island at the mouth of the bay is Dún na Séad, the Fortress of the Jewels. You might have heard it called by its English name, Cape Clear. When all the land belonged to the Gael, Dún na Séad was a kingdom with its own king.’
    ‘A king like your father?’
    ‘He had a larger territory than my father does,’ the otherboy said. ‘Look where I’m pointing now: there are the three Calf Islands, and there is Long Island, and Coney, and Castle – which has a castle on it – and there are the Skeams, and yonder is the Horse, and the Hare, and–’
    ‘Do people live on the islands?’
    ‘On most of them. Farming is hard, but they have the sea to feed them.’
    ‘Are the islanders savages?’
    Donal glared at Tom. ‘They’re no different from Maura and me.’
    ‘I didn’t mean–’
    ‘Only the Sasanach would ask a question like that,’ Donal went on angrily.
    Tom’s own temper surfaced. ‘I’m not a foreigner!’
    ‘ Sasanach doesn’t mean foreigner. It means Saxon. Englishman, Protestant, Saxon .’ Donal spat out the word as if it tasted bad.
    Tom retorted, ‘I’m not a Saxon, either!’
    Donal held his eyes a moment longer, then looked down. ‘I know it,’ he said.
    Before saying goodbye that day, Tom offered Donal the orange-striped shell.
    ‘I can’t take that,’ Donal protested. ‘You found it, it’s yours.’
    ‘I want you to have it,’ Tom insisted. ‘It’s an apology.’
    Afterwards Tom Flynn would recall the summer of 1639 as the best time of his life.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Swimmer
    N ow that the formal announcement had been made, preparations for Elizabeth Flynn’s wedding began in earnest. The ceremony was scheduled for the following year. In the meantime there was much to be done. The bride’s mother was expected to make all the necessary social arrangements. She must also prepare Roaringwater House for a much grander occasion than a mere engagement party. Mr Flynn wanted numerous repairs and improvements made to the house. The servants must be prodded into exceptional activity.
    Tom’s mother had no talent for prodding servants. She could not even raise her voice to them. She simply made suggestions – and usually forgot to follow up.
    In the end, Virginia undertook the organising. She made countless lists for herself on bits of paper. Any drawer in the house might be opened only to find one of Virginia’s ‘To Do’ lists inside. She had earnest conversations with Simon about clearing drains, and demanded that Cook create new pastries.She bullied the housemaids, even old Eithne, and occasionally tried to give orders to Missus, the housekeeper. Caroline teased her, but she took her self-imposed task seriously.
    Elizabeth Flynn sought to avoid it all. She often went to her bed-chamber and closed the door. Her mother had taught by example that when a lady’s door was closed, she must not be disturbed. She was in her sanctuary, a place where she could pray and think and dream.
    The windows of Elizabeth’s sanctuary were draped with damask. The sheets were bleached linen. A gilt-framed oil painting of King Charles stared down from one wall. There were portraits of the king throughout Roaringwater House. Some were clumsy paintings by amateurs, like the one in Elizabeth’s room. Two or three were good miniatures in silver and gold frames. These were prominently placed where any visitor would see them.
    Charles Stuart, son of James VI,