William.

Episode 3 : William The Spy

William looked around his brother to speak to Miss Cannon. WILLIAM'S LITTLE HEAD TURNED AROUND ROBERT'S ARM. "I like things that grow fast, don't I?" » HE SAID, ALL INNOCENT ANIMATION. "Can you tie knots that can't be undone?" he asked.

"No," she said, "I will." »

"Can i. i tell you I'll take a piece of yarn and tell you later. It's easy, but it takes practice, that's all. And I will teach you how to make paper airplanes that fly in the air when there is wind. It's quite easy. Just make sure they are the right size. I can do them and I can do a lot of things with matchboxes and things and…”

Robert, furious, interrupted.

"These are my father's roses. He is very proud of this."

"They are wonderful."

"Well, wait till you see my Virginia Stock!" That's all. Hang on..."

- Would you like this tea rose, Miss Cannon? Robert's face was purple when he introduced them. "What... what... oh... what suits you." You... uh... flowers and you... that means... I'm sure... you love flowers... you should... uh... always have flowers. If I…”

"And I'll bring you these red ones and this white one," interrupted Guglielmo, equally fascinated, determined not to go on stage. "And I'll give you some of my stock in Virginia." And I'm not giving my Virginia stock to anybody," he added insistently. When they returned to the living room, Miss Cannon was carrying a large bouquet of Virginia Stock roses and white and red roses that completely hid Robert's tea rose. William was next to him, speaking easily and confidently. Robert followed, a pale statue of despair.

In response to Robert's worried look, Mrs. Brown called William to her corner, while Robert and Miss Cannon returned to their seats on the couch. "I hope, I hope," said Rupert excitedly, "I hope your stay here will be long?" »

"Well, why don't I just talk to him?" » Guglielmo's bishop was strong and indignant.

"Shh, my love!" said Mrs. Brown.

"I want to show you some of the rides here," Robert continued sheepishly with a fearful glance towards the corner where William stood indignantly right in front of his mother. "If only I had this… uh… pleasure… uh… honor?" »

"I was just talking to him," William's voice continued. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I? I just talked to him!"

The silence was intense. Rubertu, crimson, opened his lips to say something, something to stifle that horrible voice, but nothing came out. Mrs. Cannon was clearly listening to William.

"No one else will ever speak to him." The hissing roar, raised to a cry of indignation, filled the whole room. "Just because Robert fell in love with her?"

The horror of the moment haunted Robert's nights and days for weeks to come.

Mrs. Brown coughed hard and began to describe at length the ravages of caterpillars on her husband's favorite rose.

William retired with dignity into the garden a minute later, and Miss Cannon rose from the sofa.

"I have to go, I'm afraid," he said, smiling. Rupert, worried and overwhelmed, got up slowly.

"You'll come back one day," he said weakly, but with undisturbed passion.

"I have," he said. "I can't wait to see William again. I love William!"

They comforted Robert's hurt feelings as best they could, but it was Ethel who came up with the plan that finally comforted him. She suggested a picnic for the following Thursday, which was Robert's birthday and, incidentally, the last day of Miss Cannon's visit. The picnic was to consist of Robert, Ethel, Mrs. Clive and Miss Cannon, and William was not yet supposed to know where he was going to be. The invitation was sent that evening, and Robert spent the week dreaming up picnics and suggesting unlikely dishes the chef had never heard of. Only when she threatened to resign did he reluctantly agree to let her handle the preparations. He sent his white jerseys (which were perfectly clean) to the laundry with a note attached, hinting at legal action if they were not returned, spotless, by Thursday morning. He walked with an expression of determination and solemnity on his sunken face. He completely ignored William. He bought a book of poetry at a used bookstore and kept it on his coffee table.

They did not see Miss Cannon during the entertainment, but Thursday dawned clear and bright, and Robert's anxiety rose. His father gave him a watch and chain, his mother a bicycle, and Guglielmo a box of candies (provided not without ulterior motives). They met Mrs. Clive and Miss Cannon at the station, and bought tickets for a village a few miles off, whence they decided to walk to a shady spot near the river.

William's dignity was slightly offended by his deliberate exclusion from the group, but he yielded to it, and spent the early part of the morning in the role of Redhand's leader among the rhododendron groves. He had added an ostrich feather that had been found in Ethel's room to his hair and used almost a full hat on his face. He carried the rug on his shoulder.

After melting molasses in rainwater over his roaring fire, adding orange juice and drinking the resulting juice, he tired of the game and went to Robert's room to inspect his birthday presents. The box of candy was on the table next to Robert's bed. William took one or two as usual and began to read love poems. A few minutes later, he was scared to see the empty box, but he closed the lid with a sigh, wondering if Rubertu would guess who had eaten it. He feared it was so. In any case, he gave them. And anyway, he didn't know that he was eating them.

He then went to the dressing table and tried the watch and chain at different angles and in different positions. Finally, he resisted the temptation to wear them for the rest of the morning and put them back on the dressing table.

He then made his way up the steps and around the shed, where Robert's new bike sat in all its glory. She shone and was perfect, and William looked at her with amazement and admiration. He concluded that he could do no harm by taking care of his house. Encouraged by the fact that Mrs. Brown had gone shopping, he walked several times around the house with her. He really enjoyed the sense of importance and mastery it gave him. I didn't want to part with her. He wondered if it was too difficult to drive. He had once tried to drive one while at an aunt's house. He was perched on a garden bench and had difficulty transferring from there to the bicycle saddle. To his surprise and delight, he had rolled a few feet before falling. He tried again and fell again. He tried again and ran straight into a sacred grove. He forgot everything in his determination to master this art. He tried again and again. He fell or ran straight into the icy bush again and again. The bike's glossy black paint was scratched, the handlebars were slightly bent and dull; William himself was bruised and battered, but undefeated. Finally he manages to avoid the fatal magnet of the ice trees, take an unstable zigzag path in the alley, and join the road. He had no particular intention of going on the road. In fact, he still wore the feather headdress, the tanned face, and the rug draped over his shoulders. It wasn't until he was on the road that he realized there was no going back and he had no idea how to get off the bike.

What followed was more of a nightmare than anything else for William. He saw a truck coming towards him and, in a panic, turned down a side road, then another. People came out of their houses to see his passing. Children cheered or cheered him and ran after him in crowds. And William continued his journey without stopping, simply because he could not stop. His nerves of steel had betrayed him. He didn't even have the presence of mind to fall. He was completely lost. He had left the city behind and didn't know where he was going. But wherever he went, he was the center of attraction. The strange figure with its black and streaked face, its back covered with braids that blew in the wind, and its head full of feathers from which it came out from time to time, attracted the population to its door. Some said he had escaped from an asylum, others that he was an advertisement for something. The children were apt to think it was part of a circus. William himself was beyond despair. His face was white and frozen. His first panic had turned into a dull certainty that this would last forever. He never knew how to stop. He assumed that he would cross England. He wondered if he was near the sea now. He couldn't be far from her. He wondered if he would ever see his mother and father again. And his legs pedaled mechanically. Do not reach the pedals at their lowest point; they had to catch them as they came and bring them back with all their strength.

It was very tiring; William wondered if people would mind if he dropped dead.

I said William didn't know where he was going. But fate knew.

Picnickers walk up the hill from the small station to the river bank. It was a beautiful morning. Rupert, with his heart and hopes open, walked next to his goddess, enjoying his proximity to her, even if he could not think of anything to say to her. But Ethel and Mrs. Clive spoke happily.

"We saved William," Ethel said with a laugh. "He has no idea where we're going!" »

"I'm sorry," said Miss Cannon, "I wish William was here." »

"I don't know him," said Ethel gravely.

- What a beautiful morning! » murmured Robert, feeling that he deserved a remark from him. "Am I going too fast for you, Miss Cannon?" »

"Oh, no."

"Can I hold your umbrella for you?" he asked humbly. "Oh no, thanks."

He suggested a boat trip up the river after lunch, and it seemed that Miss Cannon would be pleased, but Ethel and Mrs. Clive preferred to stay ashore.

His cup of happiness was full. This would be an opportunity for him to make a lifelong friendship with her, to arrange a regular correspondence and to tell her his final intentions. He had to say that, of course, when he was at university, he couldn't give her his heart and his hand, but if she could wait... He started writing speeches in his head. They reached the shore and opened their lunch baskets. Inducted by Robert, the cook had surpassed herself. They spread the white blanket and sat around him, under the shade of the trees.

As Ruperto took a plate of sandwiches and passed them with a polite gesture to Miss Cannone, his eyes fell on the long white road that led from the village to the river, and he stopped there, his face frozen with terror. The hand holding the plate fell lifelessly on the tablecloth. His eyes followed hers. A curious figure was walking down the road on a bicycle, a figure with a black face, some feathers falling on his head and a carpet flying in the wind. A crowd of boys ran after them, cheering. It was a figure everyone vaguely recognized.

"It's not possible," Robert said aloud, running a hand over his forehead. No one spoke.

He was getting closer and closer. There was no room for error.

"William!" » called four voices.

Guglielmo reached the end of the road. He did not deviate from any of the roads that ran along the river. He neither recognized nor looked at them. His face frozen and colorless, he stepped towards the shore and headed towards them. They fled before their charge. Climb on the tablecloth, on sandwiches, pancakes, rolls and sweets, go down to the shore and jump into the river. They saved him and his bike. Fate also attacked Robert. It was a passing boat that came to Guglielmo's aid. Guglielmo comes out soaked to the skin, completely exhausted, but with a vague sense of heroism. He was not surprised to see them. I wouldn't be surprised by anything. And Robert was sweeping and examining his battered bicycle with helpless fury in the background, while Miss Cannon rested William's drooping head on her arm, gave him hot coffee and sandwiches, and called him "And my poor girlfriend Red Hand!

William pedaled on the picnic blanket. FRENCH PAR L'INDUVIATION, SUR LES SANDWICHES AND LES HERTS, VENUE DANS LE RIVIÈRE AND AT THE RIVER. She insisted on going home with him. Throughout the journey, he maintained the character of his loyal team. Then, leaving an informal invitation for Robert and Ethel to come over for tea, he went packing.

Mrs. Brown came down the stairs from William's room with a table with a half-empty bowl of oatmeal and joined Robert in the hallway.

"Robert," she chided him, "there's no need to look so angry."

Robert looked at him and burst out laughing.

"Annihilated!" » he repeated, indignant at the inadequacy of the expression. “You would be angry if your life was ruined. You would be bored. I have a right to be. »

He ran a hand through his already tousled hair in desperation.

"Go here for yourself," he reminded her.

"Yes," he said bitterly, "with other people." Who can talk to other people here? No one can. I would have talked to him in the river. I had many things in mind to say. And William comes and ruins my whole life - and my bike. And she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. And I've wanted this bike for so long and it's not road. »

"But poor William has caught a very bad cold, dear, so you mustn't blame him. And he's going to pay to fix your bike. He won't have any pocket money until it's paid."

"Think," said Robert, with a desperate gesture towards the hall table, and apparently addressing her, "that you'd think four adults in a house could keep a boy William in order, wouldn't you? I suppose not he has no right to ruin people's lives and destroy their bikes Well, he doesn't,” he finished darkly. Mrs. Brown went into the kitchen.

"Robert," she said soothingly over his shoulder, "surely you want to be at peace with your brother when he's sick, don't you?" »

"Peace?" he said. Robert turned his haunted face toward her as if his ears had deceived him. "Peace!" I'll wait. I will wait until he is healthy and can leave. I won't leave early. But... peace! It's not peace, it's a truce, that's all.