Maddon's Rock
“The sun shone and the water between the town and the island of Kerrera looked almost blue. Beyond Kerrera, the mountains of Mull stood out clear and brown in the rain-washed atmosphere. We hitched a ride to Connel Ferry and there we were directed to the Sorrels’ house. It stood back from the road on a sloping hillside surrounded by pines. From the drive we could see past the iron girders of the railway bridge that spanned the narrow, racing waters of Loch Etive out to the Morvern hills. And eas...tward, through a gap in the first we got a glimpse of the lofty mass of Ben Cruachan. The tip of it gleamed white in the sunlight with the remains of the winter’s snow.
An old woman opened the door to us. I told her my name and she disappeared. “Reck’n you oughter’ve telephoned,” Bert said. “S’ppose she don’t want ter see us. I mean it ain’t as if we was respec’able. Don’t ferget we’re a couple o’ escaped convic’s.”
Until he spoke of it, I don’t think it had occurred to me that our presence might be an embarrassment.MoreLess
An old woman opened the door to us. I told her my name and she disappeared. “Reck’n you oughter’ve telephoned,” Bert said. “S’ppose she don’t want ter see us. I mean it ain’t as if we was respec’able. Don’t ferget we’re a couple o’ escaped convic’s.”
Until he spoke of it, I don’t think it had occurred to me that our presence might be an embarrassment.MoreLess
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