A Case of Trespass Page #2

"A Case of Trespass" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a compelling short story that explores themes of love, loss, and societal expectations. The narrative follows the protagonist, a young woman named Valancy Stirling, who grapples with her unfulfilled dreams and the constraints imposed by her family and society. When Valancy embarks on a journey of self-discovery and defiance, she confronts her past and redefines her sense of belonging. Montgomery's characteristic lyrical prose and insightful character development invite readers to reflect on the nature of personal freedom and the quest for happiness amidst societal pressures.

• Short story

								

with the corner of her gingham apron. "Letty Mills brought it in
around a parcel this morning. It's four weeks old, but I kept it to
read if I ever get time. It's so seldom we see a paper of any kind
nowadays. But I haven't looked at it yet. Why, Danny, what on earth is
the matter?"

For Dan, who had opened the paper and glanced over the first page,
suddenly gave a choked exclamation and turned pale, staring stupidly
at the sheet before him.

"See, Mother," he gasped, as she came up in alarm and looked over his
shoulder. This is what they read:

    Notice

    Anyone found fishing on my pond at Carleton after date will be
    prosecuted according to law, without respect of persons.

    June First.                                H.C. Walters.

"Oh, Danny, what does it mean?"

Dan went and carefully closed the door of Ella May's room before he
replied. His face was pale and his voice shaky.

"Mean? Well, Mother, it just means that I've been stealing Mr.
Walters's trout all summer--stealing them. That's what it means."

"Oh, Danny! But you didn't know."

"No, but I ought to have remembered that he was the new owner, and
have asked him. I never thought. Mother, what does 'prosecuted
according to law' mean?"

"I don't know, I'm sure, Danny. But if this is so, there's only one
thing to be done. You must go straight to Mr. Walters and tell him all
about it."

"Mother, I don't dare to. He is a dreadfully hard man. Sam French's
father says--"

"I wouldn't believe a word Sam French's father says about Mr.
Walters!" said Mrs. Phillips firmly. "He's got a spite against him
because he was dismissed. Besides, Danny, it's the only right thing to
do. You know that. We're poor, but we have never done anything
underhand yet."

"Yes, Mother, I know," said Dan, gulping his fear bravely down. "I'll
go, of course, right after dinner. I was only scared at first. I'll
tell you what I'll do. I'll clean these trout nicely and take them to
Mr. Walters, and tell him that, if he'll only give me time, I'll pay
him back every cent of money I got for all I sold this summer. Then
maybe he'll let me off, seeing as I didn't know about the notice."

"I'll go with you, Danny."

"No, I'll go alone, Mother. You needn't go with me," said Dan
heroically. To himself he said that his mother had troubles enough. He
would never subject her to the added ordeal of an interview with the
stern factory owner. He would beard the lion in his den himself, if it
had to be done.

"Don't tell Ella May anything about it. It would worry her. And don't
cry, Mother, I guess it'll be all right. Let me have my dinner now and
I'll go straight off."

Dan ate his dinner rapidly; then he carefully cleaned his trout, put
them in a long basket, with rhubarb leaves over them, and started with
an assumed cheerfulness very far from his real feelings.

He had barely passed the gate when another boy came shuffling along--a
tall, raw-boned lad, with an insinuating smile and shifty, cunning
eyes. The newcomer nodded familiarly to Dan.

"Hello, sonny. Going over to the Lake with your catch, are you? You'll
fry up before you get there. There'll be nothing left of you but a
crisp."

"No, I'm not going to the Lake. I'm going up to the factory to see Mr.
Walters."

Sam French gave a long whistle of surprise.

"Why, Dan, what's taking you there? You surely ain't thinking of
trying for that place, are you? Walters wouldn't look at you. Why, he
wouldn't take me! You haven't the ghost of a chance."

"No, I'm not going for that. Sam, did you know that Mr. Walters had a
notice in the Lake Advertiser that nobody could fish in his pond
this summer?"

"Course I did--the old skinflint! He's too mean to live, that's what.
He never goes near the pond himself. Regular dog in the manger, he is.
Dad says--"

"Sam, why didn't you tell me about that notice?"

"Gracious, didn't you know? I s'posed everybody did, and here I've
been taking you for the cutest chap this side of sunset--fishing away
up in that creek where no one could see you, and cutting home through
the woods on the sly. You don't mean to tell me you never saw that
notice?"

"No, I didn't. Do you think I'd have gone near the pond if I had? I
never saw it till today, and I'm going straight to Mr. Walters now to
tell him about it."

Sam French stopped short in the dusty road and stared at Dan in
undisguised amazement.

"Dan Phillips," he ejaculated, "have you plum gone out of your mind?
Boy alive, you needn't be afraid that I'd peach on you. I'm too blamed
glad to see anyone get the better of that old Walters, smart as he
thinks himself. Gee! To dream of going to him and telling him you've
been fishing in his pond! Why, he'll put you in jail. You don't know
what sort of a man he is. Dad says--"

"Never mind what your dad says, Sam. My mind's made up."

"Dan, you chump, listen to me. That notice says 'prosecuted according
to law.' Why, Danny, he'll put you in prison, or fine you, or
something dreadful."

"I can't help it if he does," said Danny stoutly. "You get out of
here, Sam French, and don't be trying to scare me. I mean to be
honest, and how can I be if I don't own up to Mr. Walters that I've
been stealing his trout all summer?"

"Stealing, fiddlesticks! Dan, I used to think you were a chap with
some sense, but I see I was mistaken. You ain't done no harm. Walters
will never miss them trout. If you're so dreadful squeamish that you
won't fish no more, why, you needn't. But just let the matter drop and
hold your tongue about it. That's my advice."

"Well, it isn't my mother's, then. I mean to go by hers. You needn't
argue no more, Sam. I'm going."

"Go, then!" said Sam, stopping short in disgust. "You're a big fool,
Dan, and serve you right if Walters lands you off to jail; but I don't
wish you no ill. If I can do anything for your family after you're
gone, I will, and I'll try and give your remains Christian burial--if
there are any remains. So long, Danny! Give my love to old Walters!"

Dan was not greatly encouraged by this interview. He shrank more than
ever from the thought of facing the stern factory owner. His courage
had almost evaporated when he entered the office at the factory and
asked shakily for Mr. Walters.

"He's in his office there," replied the clerk, "but he's very busy.
Better leave your message with me."

"I must see Mr. Walters himself, please," said Dan firmly, but with
inward trepidation.

The clerk swung himself impatiently from his stool and ushered Dan
into Mr. Walters's private office.

"Boy to see you, sir," he said briefly, as he closed the ground-glass
door behind him.

Dan, dizzy and trembling, stood in the dreaded presence. Mr. Walters
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