Escape From Home by Avi Read Free Book Online Page A

barked.
    â€œBut I never—”
    â€œSilence!”
    â€œI was thinking, sir,” Albert continued—he kept glancing toward Laurence and smirking—“that if he begins by stealing my pen, my dear mother’s gift, he might go on and do a lot worse if I didn’t punish him. I was just trying to bring him to an understanding of right from wrong.
    â€œI’m telling you this because Laurence is not merely a liar, sir. He’s a scoundrel. And a thief. He should be punished.”
    Lord Kirkle glowered reproachfully at Laurence.
    â€œNone of it is true,” Laurence insisted in a squeaky whisper. “None of it. You know how he hates me.”
    â€œAre you implying,” Lord Kirkle rumbled, “that your elder brother has been untruthful?”
    â€œ He’s making it all up, sir,” Laurence cried hotly. “He is! You know he is! He’s jealous of me.”
    â€œJealous!” Albert roared. “What’s there for me to be jealous of?”
    â€œBecause,” Laurence shouted, “our father cares more for me than he does you!”
    Red-faced, Albert stepped forward. “You’re not just a thieving liar,” he snarled, “you’re a disgrace to the family! You ought to be kicked out of this house!”
    In a rage Laurence flung himself at his brother and began to beat on him with his fists. Under the assault, Albert fell back.
    â€œLaurence!” Lord Kirkle cried. Striding forward, he snatched at Laurence’s collar, yanking the boy back with such force that he staggered, twisted around, became entangled in his own feet, and crashed to the ground.
    The next moment Lord Kirkle was standing over him. “Face me!” he bellowed.
    A terrified Laurence looked up.
    â€œI will not have you attacking your brother!” their father said.
    â€œBut, sir, I—”
    â€œYou shall thank your brother on your knees for informing me of your wickedness.”
    Laurence, weeping copiously, sputtered, “I won’t! He’s the liar. He is!”
    Lord Kirkle stiffened with anger. “Albert!” he thundered, thrusting the cane into the young man’s hand. “You may strike your ungrateful brother four times.”

I ’m not ungrateful!” Laurence sobbed hysterically. “I’m not!”
    Without a moment’s hesitation, Albert lashed down with all his strength. The cane struck Laurence on the cheek, causing an instant bloody red welt.
    With a shriek of pain, the boy covered his face and attempted to run for the door. Albert was too quick. Blocking his way, he struck again and again, forcing Laurence up against his father’s massive table. With every cut, Laurence clutched his head, his arms, his chest with convulsive jerks and twists. “Please!” he cried. “Stop!”
    â€œEnough!” Lord Kirkle shouted, finally restraining his elder son. “Enough, I say!”
    Panting with exertion, Albert let himself be pulled away. In his hand, the cane twitched like an angry cat’s tail.
    Crying bitterly, Laurence lay in a crumpled heap. A red welt, from his right ear to his chin, oozing blood, disfigured the side of his face. His jacket was cut in many places. A sleeve had been ripped.
    Lord Kirkle and Albert looked down at the miserable boy. Neither spoke. At last their father said, “Albert, you may leave the room.”
    â€œIf I—”
    â€œAlbert! Go!”
    â€œYes, sir. But with your permission, sir, I’d like to keep the cane.”
    â€œYou will leave it, sir!”
    Albert started to protest but stopped when he saw how upset his father was. Instead of speaking, he flipped the cane at Laurence. It hit the boy and fell to the rug. With that, Albert bowed to his father and walked casually from the room, a smile fixed upon his face. Behind him, the massive door shut.
    As soon as it did, Lord Kirkle pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and offered