The Owl Service Read Online Free PDF

said. They would not let him stay here. He lost his job.”
    â€œThe English? Wasn’t the house lived in properly even then?”
    â€œIt has never been a home,” said Huw. “They come for a while, and go. And my grandfather had to go. They would not let him stay in the valley.”
    â€œWhat happened to him?”
    â€œHe walked away. Sometimes we heard of him. He sent those plates. He was working in the big potteries, and he decorated the plates and sent them to the house, and a letter to say he was all right now, but word came soon after that he had died at Stoke.”
    â€œBut why were they put in the loft? And why did Mam have hysterics when I found them?”
    â€œAsk her. She’s your mother,” said Huw. “Perhaps there’s always talk in a valley.”
    â€œIs there anything needed for the house while we’re out shopping, Halfbacon?”
    Roger and his father came into the yard.
    â€œNo, sir,” said Huw. “We are not wanting any stuff.”
    â€œGood,” said Clive. “I’ll be off, then. Jot down what you want for your snaps, won’t you, Roger? Funny rock you have in the meadow, Halfbacon. Who drilled the hole in it?”
    â€œIt is the Stone of Gronw,”said Huw.
    â€œOh? What’s that when it’s at home, eh? Ha ha.”
    â€œThere is a man being killed at that place,” said Huw: “old time.”
    â€œWas there now!”
    â€œYes,” said Huw. “He has been taking the other man’s wife.”
    â€œThat’s a bit off, I must say,” said Clive. “I suppose the stone’s a kind of memorial, eh? But who made the hole? You can see those trees through it at the top of the ridge.”
    â€œYes, sir,” said Huw. “He is standing on the bank of the river, see, and the husband is up there on the Bryn with a spear: and he is putting the stone between himself and the spear, and the spear is going right through the stone and him.”
    â€œOho,” said Clive.
    â€œWhy did he stand there and let it happen?” said Roger.
    â€œBecause he killed the husband the same way earlier to take the wife.”
    â€œTit for tat,” said Clive. “These old yarns, eh? Well, I must be off.”
    â€œYes, sir, that is how it is happening, old time.”
    Gwyn went with Roger and his father towards the house.
    â€œWill you be using the billiard-room today, Mr Bradley?”
    â€œNo,” said Clive. “I’ll be fishing as soon as we’re back: mustn’t waste this weather, you know. Help yourself, old son.”
    â€œHere’s what I want for my camera, Dad,” said Roger. “It’s all there.”
    â€œFine,” said Clive. “Well, cheerio.”
    â€œI was beginning to believe that maundering old liar,” said Roger.
    â€œHuw wasn’t lying. Not deliberate,” said Gwyn.
    â€œWhat? A spear making that hole? Thrown all the way from those trees? By a stiff?”
    â€œHuw believes it.”
    â€œYou Welsh are all the same,” said Roger. “Scratch one and they all bleed.”
    â€œWhat happened to you yesterday by the Stone of Gronw?” said Gwyn. “You knew what I meant when I was trying to explain how it felt when I picked up a plate. And then you started talking about the stone out of nowhere.”
    â€œIt was a feeling,” said Roger. “One minute everything’s OK – and the next minute it’s not. Too much clean living, I expect. I’ll cut down on the yoghurt—”
    â€œAnd you came straight up from the river,” said Gwyn. “Didn’t you? Work it out, man. We both felt something, and it must have been near enough at the same time. What was it?”
    â€œA thump,” said Roger. “A kind of scream. Very quick. Perhaps there was an accident—”
    â€œI’ve not heard of any,” said Gwyn. “And in this valley you can’t