Похищенный
Chapter 3
”
“Hoot-toot,hoot-toot!”saidhe.“LightsinahouseisathingIdinnaeagreewith.I’muncofearedoffires.Good-nighttoye,Davie,myman.”AndbeforeIhadtimetoaddafurtherprotest,hepulledthedoorto,andIheardhimlockmeinfromtheoutside.
Ididnotknowwhethertolaughorcry.Theroomwasascoldasawell,andthebed,whenIhadfoundmywaytoit,asdampasapeat-hag;butbygoodfortuneIhadcaughtupmybundleandmyplaid,androllingmyselfinthelatter,Ilaydownuponthefloorunderleeofthebigbedstead,andfellspeedilyasleep.
WiththefirstpeepofdayIopenedmyeyes,tofindmyselfinagreatchamber,hungwithstampedleather,furnishedwithfineembroideredfurniture,andlitbythreefairwindows.Tenyearsago,orperhapstwenty,itmusthavebeenaspleasantaroomtoliedownortoawakeinasamancouldwish;butdamp,dirt,disuse,andthemiceandspidershaddonetheirworstsincethen.Manyofthewindow-panes,besides,werebroken;andindeedthiswassocommonafeatureinthathouse,thatIbelievemyunclemustatsometimehavestoodasiegefromhisindignantneighbours—perhapswithJennetCloustonattheirhead.
Meanwhilethesunwasshiningoutside;andbeingverycoldinthatmiserableroom,Iknockedandshoutedtillmygaolercameandletmeout.Hecarriedmetothebackofthehouse,wherewasadraw-well,andtoldmeto“washmyfacethere,ifIwanted;”andwhenthatwasdone,Imadethebestofmyownwaybacktothekitchen,wherehehadlitthefireandwasmakingtheporridge.
