The Flyer Read Online Free PDF Page A

earn him six strokes of the cane. He had almost reached the school gates when somebody called his name.
    ‘Reynolds!’
    He turned around to see that Mister Watson was behind him. ‘Yes, sir?’
    ‘I wondered where you’re off to.’
    ‘The library, sir.’
    Watson smiled as he fell into step beside him. ‘I see. To translate from Virgil for Mister Norris I expect?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘I think I’ve something that might help you with that in my rooms. There’s a fire lit so it should be warm, and I daresay I could manage a cup of tea if you’d like?’
    William wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly. ‘Sir?’
    ‘I’m offering to help you, Reynolds,’ Watson said kindly. ‘But of course the decision is entirely yours. I shan’t be offended if you prefer to decline. What do you say?’
    ‘Thank you, sir,’ William managed to say. ‘I mean, I’d like it if you could help me.’
    ‘Good. Come along then.’
    Like most of the masters, Mister Watson lived on the school grounds. When they reached his rooms, he invited William to have a seat beside the fire. ‘Mrs Hedges usually looks after me, but I have to fend for myself on Sundays I’m afraid. Still, I think I can manage a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.’
    He left William, alone promising to return in a few minutes. While he was gone, William looked at the paintings that hung on the walls. There were several Scottish landscapes done in watercolour, the empty hills purple with heather. There were also numerous paintings of different types of birds. He got up and looked closer at one of a kingfisher. Every feather on its back seemed to have been individually painted, the colours delicately bleeding from slate grey to turquoise, the eyes bright and sharp with life. He wandered about the room looking at Mister Watson’s things. There were shelves full of books, many of them ornithological, but there were also novels and poetry in English, and others in Greek and Latin.
    ‘Do you enjoy reading, William?’ Watson said as he returned with a tray which he put down on a small table.
    ‘I used to, sir.’
    ‘You mean you don’t anymore. Why not?’
    ‘There’s no time to read, sir.’
    ‘Surely you have time to yourself after you’ve done your prep?’
    ‘It takes me longer than the other boys,’ William said. ‘There’s lots they didn’t teach us at my other school.’
    ‘Ah, yes, I see. Like Latin you mean?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Sit down and have your tea.’ Watson offered a plate of biscuits, and told William to help himself. He took down a leather bound book from a shelf. ‘This is The Aeneid,’ he said. ‘You’ll find it contains both the original Latin version of Virgil’s epic, and also John Dryden’s English translation. ‘The first one hundred lines, I believe Mister Norris said.’ He put the book down on the table and winked. ‘I think you’ll find this useful.’
    William looked through the pages, both pleased and astonished.
    ‘I think,’ Mister Watson added, ‘that it might be wise to make one or two deliberate errors. Just so that you don’t arouse Mister Norris’s suspicion. You can stay here and copy it out this afternoon if you like. It will be quite peaceful as I usually go for a walk on Sunday afternoons. Have you ever been to Fotheringhay?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘It’s a village about four miles from here. There used to be a castle there, though now there’s only a mound left where it stood. A pair of hobbies were nesting in a hollow tree by the river during the summer.’ Watson fetched a watercolour he’d done of a pair of the little falcons. ‘I’m something of a birdwatcher in my spare time as you can see. There’s a path that follows the river, you know. It’s quite a pleasant walk if you ever feel like doing it.’
    ‘I can’t walk very far because of my leg, sir.’ Oi carnt wark very far because of moi leg.  
    ‘Of course, I’m sorry, I forgot.’ Mister Watson regarded William