The Empty Frame Read Online Free PDF

stood by with a scarlet towel and Jesus, in a corner and already wearing his crown of thorns, was looking on, sadly. The other showed a scene from the Old Testament. Father Robert had told him the story, about Balaam’s donkey who was beaten because he disobeyed his master. Knowing that he was in the presence of an angel of God, the poor beast had lain down in the road and would not budge. Here, in ragged, faded threads, was that donkey, flattened, with its ears sticking out at right angles, as if something had run over it, and a great ball of shimmering light that was the angel. It was only a glimpse as the Colonel, puffing slightly, started to mount the spiral stairs, but it made Magnus think of Arthur, the little cat. Animals were sometimes more sensitive to the big, deep things than human beings were, and Arthur had been plainly terrified when the crying began. Like Balaam’s ass, the cat must have suddenly picked up a very strong presence, and he had fled from it. It was definitely not good, like the angel, but perhaps it was not totally bad either. All Magnus knewfor certain was that it was very troubled. Its grief was great and it had wept human tears.
    But how could it have anything to do with that hard-faced woman in the gold frame, the woman who had, he was sure, been out of it when he’d first come into the Great Hall and found the Colonel playing chess? And had Colonel Stickley known that the woman had gone from the frame and was that gruff, calm treatment of Magnus all a sham?
    As the Colonel said goodnight to him and he snuggled down into his bed again, he once more felt afraid. He wanted some arms round him. Why hadn’t he gone to Majorca with Auntie Win and Uncle Donald? He felt round in the bed. Perhaps Arthur had crept back and was waiting for him, a warm purry presence, but the cat was not there. So he turned on his side, burrowing down as Colonel Stickley limped down the stairs, still muttering to himself. “Flowers in the fireplace,” Magnus heard. “Whatever next… for three children. Is this the Hilton Hotel? Humph, I’m not clearing the mess up. It’ll be that damned cat.”
    But a cat as small as Arthur could not have achieved the complete wreckage that now lay in the grate, a wreckage Magnus had not seen as he’d climbed thankfully and hurriedly into his bed. Cousin M’s beautiful arrangement of wild peonies, set in the fireplace in their honour, lay in ruins. The simple greenvase that had held them was smashed and it looked as if some of the smaller pieces of glass had been ground into powder. The flowers themselves had been torn from their stalks and dismembered, petal by petal, and they lay upon the dark polished floor of the tower room like big flakes of snow.

CHAPTER THREE
    Cousin M, coming into the turret room next morning, saw the flowers scattered in the grate, knelt down and, without comment, began to pick them up.
    â€œIt wasn’t me, I didn’t knock them over,” Magnus said defensively, sitting up in bed. He’d become very used to people telling him off for things he hadn’t done.
    Cousin M showed no reaction. “It’s all right dear. It’s a shame about the vase though, it was a pretty one. Perhaps the children’s mother could get me another. It came from the old glass factory near my flat in Majorca.”
    Sam and Floss had woken up too. Through the barred window they could see a square of cloudless blue sky, sun shining on a sheet of water. The day suddenly felt good.
    â€œDon’t know if you’re interested, but there’s breakfast down below,” Cousin M said casually, tidying the bits of glass into a heap. “Mind you don’t cut yourselves on this. I’ll bring a dustpan.”
    â€œDid Arthur knock the flowers over?” asked Floss.
    â€œProbably. He doesn’t know his own strength, thatanimal.” But Magnus, who was observing her very carefully, didn’t