The Place of the Lion by Charles Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

glowing splendour upon the red tiles, swept beyond it, and disappeared.
    Anthony moved and blinked, took a step or two away, looked round him, blinked again, and turned back to Mr. Tighe. He was about to speak, but, seeing the other man’s face, he paused abruptly. The tears were running down it; as his hands released the bars Anthony saw that he was trembling all over; he stumbled and could not get his footing upon the road. Anthony caught and steadied him.
    â€œO glory, glory,” Mr. Tighe said. “O glory everlasting!”
    Anthony said nothing; he couldn’t begin to think of anything to say. Mr. Tighe, apparently collecting himself, went an unconscious pace or two on, and stopped.
    â€œO that I should see it!” he said again. “O glory be to it!” He wiped away his tears with his knuckles, and looked back at the garden. “O the blessed sight,” he went on. “And I saw it. O what have I done to deserve it?”
    â€œWhat … what do you think …” Anthony desisted, his companion was so obviously not listening. Mr. Tighe in a little run went back to the gate, and bobbed half across it, making inarticulate murmurs. These gradually ceased, and, pulling himself upright, he remained for a few minutes gazing devoutly at the garden. Then with a deep sigh he turned to face Anthony.
    â€œWell,” he said normally, “I suppose I ought to be getting back. Which way are you going?”
    â€œI think I’ll come back with you,” Anthony answered. “I don’t feel capable of walking on as I meant to. Besides,” he added diffidently, “I should be very much obliged to you if you could explain this.”
    Mr. Tighe picked up his net, which was lying on the road, patted himself here and there, gave a final beatific glance at the garden, put his cap straight, and began to walk on. “Well, as to explaining,” he said doubtfully, “I couldn’t tell you anything you don’t know.”
    â€œIt seems to me someone ought to be able to tell me quite a lot I don’t know,” Anthony murmured, but Mr. Tighe only answered, “I always knew they were real, but to think I should see them.”
    â€œSee them?” Anthony ventured.
    â€œSee the kingdom and the power and the glory,” Mr. Tighe answered. “O what a day this has been!” He looked round at the tall young man pacing by his side. “You know, I did believe it.”
    â€œI am quite sure you did,” Anthony answered gravely. “I wish you’d believe as well, Mr. Tighe, that I only want to understand, if I can, what it seems to you happened over there. Because I can’t think that I really saw a lot of butterflies vanishing entirely. But that was what it looked like.”
    â€œDid it now?” Mr. Tighe said. “Well, but the thing is—— You see, it proved they were real, and I always believed that. Damaris doesn’t.”
    â€œNo,” Anthony agreed, with a doubtful smile, “Damaris probably doesn’t—whatever you mean by real. But she will.”
    â€œWill she?” Mr. Tighe replied, with an unexpected scepticism. “Well perhaps … one of these days.”
    â€œIf there is any reality,” Anthony said vigorously, “then Damaris shall jolly well know it, if I have anything to do with her. Wouldn’t she like to hear me say so, bless her for a self-absorbed little table-maker. But about this reality of yours——”
    Mr. Tighe seemed to make an effort or two at phrases, but presently he gave it up. “It’s no good,” he said apologetically; “if you didn’t see it, it’s no good.”
    â€œI saw clouds and clouds of butterflies, or I thought I did, all just disappearing,” Anthony repeated. “And that monstrous one in the middle.”
    â€œAh, don’t call it that,” the older man protested. “That … O that!”
    He