The Dragon in the Cliff Read Online Free PDF Page B

truly understanding why he was paying so much attention to me, was happy just to be with him and eager to learn everything he taught me.
    October is often mild with blue skies and deceptively warm days that make one forget the cold, gray days that lie ahead. It was on one such fine October day, when he was feeling strong, that Papa set out for Captain Locke’s in Charmouth, just two miles away. He did not return when we expected him. It was already dark when Joseph stopped by to say hello. Mama, becoming anxious, asked Joseph to stay until Papa returned. She lit the candles. The little ones were hungry. Mama put supper on the table. We ate, listening for Papa’s footsteps. Even John, who was only five years old, understood that something was the matter and was quiet. We finished supper and still Papa had not returned. We cleared the table, washed the dishes, sat, and waited.
    There was an abrupt knocking at the door to the shop. We all jumped up at once. Papa would not knock. Who could it be? All of us tumbled down the stairs, one on the heels of the other. Joseph reached the door first and opened it. It was Mr. Clements, who worked for the Customs. Standing behind him was a large, red-bearded man we did not recognize, holding Papa in his arms.
    â€œWe were on the trail of some smugglers when we found him lying halfway down the cliff. He must have fallen,” Mr. Clements told Mama, as Joseph and I took Papa from the arms of the red-bearded man.
    I don’t know how we got Papa up the steep, narrow stairs to bed, but we did. For several days he lay there, too weak to say anything. Then he seemed to be regaining his strength. The Reverend Gleed came and sat by Papa’s bedside for some time. When he came down, he told us that Papa wanted to see us.
    Joseph, who had not returned to Mr. Hale’s since Papa was brought home, was the first one up the stairs, followed by Mama, John, Ann, and me. Mama sat down next to Papa and grasped his limp hand in hers. John stood next to her, finger in his mouth, almost hidden by her skirts, and right behind him was Ann, wide-eyed with fear.
    â€œNow, Molly, don’t cry,” Papa whispered, as Mama bent over him, smoothing his hair back. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Don’t cry,” he whispered hoarsely, struggling to sit up.
    Mama tried to help him, while Joseph arranged the pillows behind his back to support him. I remember thinking as I watched them, how small he seemed. He had been a big man, and now he was small. Yet I could not remember him growing smaller. When he was sitting, Papa looked at us. He tried to say something and began to cough. Helplessly, we watched as each cough racked his body. When he stopped coughing, he fell back on the pillows weakly. Mama wiped the blood from his lips.
    He looked out the window. Our eyes followed his gaze. “It’s strange how you think that everything will stop when you stop,” he said after a minute. “But see, the sun is still shining and the tide is coming in. They’ll be here long after I’m gone. So will you, my dears, so will you. But I’m afraid to think of what will become of you. I’ve tried my best to provide for you, but I have failed.”
    â€œNow, Richard—” Mama started to protest.
    But Papa cut her off, “These are hard times, Molly, no use denying.…” He turned to Joseph. “I planned for you to work here with me, son, but that shall not be. You’ll be on your own when you finish at Mr. Hale’s. You will be a fine upholsterer, that I know. And you will be a fine man, too. Be good to your mother, brother, and sisters. They need care and protection, and will only have you to look to.” Joseph nodded, wiping away tears with the back of his hand.
    â€œMary, my child, you are a good girl, and you will be a fine woman. I have tried my best to prepare you for what is coming in the only way I know how—the curiosities. They are