A Place Called Freedom - Ken Follett [41]
Robert ordered the ostler to stop the horse.
Mack at last stopped running. He tried to stand proud, but his legs would not support him, and he fell to his knees. The ostler came to untie him, but Robert stopped the man with a gesture.
Robert spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Well, McAsh, you said yesterday that you were one day short of servitude. Now you have worked that extra day. Even by your own foolish rules you’re my father’s property now.” He turned around to address the crowd.
But before he could speak again, Jimmy Lee started to sing.
Jimmy had a pure tenor voice, and the notes of a familiar hymn soared out across the glen:
Behold, a man in anguish bending
Marked by pain and loss
Yonder stony hill ascending
Carrying a cross
Robert flushed red and shouted: “Be quiet!”
Jimmy ignored him and began the second verse. The others joined in, some singing the harmonies, and a hundred voices swelled the melody.
He is now transfixed with sorrow
In the eyes of men
When we see the bright tomorrow
He will rise again
Robert turned away, helpless. He stamped across the mud to his horse, leaving Lizzie standing alone, a small figure of defiance. He mounted and rode off down the hill, looking furious, with the thrilling voices of the miners shaking the mountain air like a thunderstorm:
Look no more with eyes of pity
See our victory
When we build that heavenly city
All men shall be free!
11
JAY WOKE UP KNOWING HE WAS GOING TO PROPOSE marriage to Lizzie.
It was only yesterday that his mother had put it into his mind, but the idea had taken root fast. It seemed natural, even inevitable.
Now he was worried about whether she would have him.
She liked him well enough, he thought—most girls did. But she needed money and he had none. Mother said those problems could be solved but Lizzie might prefer the certainty of Robert’s prospects. The idea of her marrying Robert was loathsome.
To his disappointment he found she had gone out early. He was tense, too tense to wait around the house for her to return. He went out to the stables and looked at the white stallion his father had given him for his birthday. The horse’s name was Blizzard. Jay had vowed never to ride him, but he could not resist the temptation. He took Blizzard up to High Glen and galloped him along the springy turf beside the stream. It was worth breaking his vow. He felt as if he were on the back of an eagle, soaring through the air, borne up by the wind.
Blizzard was at his best when galloping. Walking or trotting he was skittish, unsure of his footing, discontented and bad tempered. But it was easy to forgive a horse for being a poor trotter when he could run like a bullet.
As Jay rode home he indulged himself in thoughts of Lizzie. She had always been exceptional, even as a girl: pretty and rebellious and beguiling. Now she was unique. She could shoot better than anyone Jay knew, she had beaten him in a horse race, she was not afraid to go down a coal mine, she could disguise herself and fool everyone at a dinner table—he had never met a woman like her.
She was difficult to deal with, of course: willful, opinionated and self-centered. She was more ready than most women to challenge what men said. But Jay and everyone else forgave her because she was so charming, tilting her pert little face this way and that, smiling and frowning even as she contradicted every word you said.
He reached the stable yard at the same time as his brother. Robert was in a bad mood. When angry he became even more like Father, red faced and pompous. Jay said: “What the devil is the matter with you?” but Robert threw his reins to a groom and stomped indoors.
While Jay was stabling Blizzard, Lizzie rode up. She, too, was upset, but the flush of anger on her cheeks and the glint in her eyes made her even prettier. Jay stared at her, enraptured. I want this girl, he thought;