Похищенный
Chapter 22
Ilookedatthesprigofheath,andatthatIcouldhavecriedaloud:forIsawIhadbetrayedmytrust.Myheadwasnearlyturnedwithfearandshame;andatwhatIsaw,whenIlookedoutaroundmeonthemoor,myheartwaslikedyinginmybody.Forsureenough,abodyofhorse-soldiershadcomedownduringmysleep,andweredrawingneartousfromthesouth-east,spreadoutintheshapeofafanandridingtheirhorsestoandfrointhedeeppartsoftheheather.
WhenIwakedAlan,heglancedfirstatthesoldiers,thenatthemarkandthepositionofthesun,andknittedhisbrowswithasudden,quicklook,bothuglyandanxious,whichwasallthereproachIhadofhim.
“Whatarewetodonow?”Iasked.
“We’llhavetoplayatbeinghares,”saidhe.“Doyeseeyonmountain?”pointingtooneonthenorth-easternsky.
“Ay,”saidI.
“Well,then,”sayshe,“letusstrikeforthat.ItsnameisBenAlder.itisawild,desertmountainfullofhillsandhollows,andifwecanwintoitbeforethemorn,wemaydoyet.”
“But,Alan,”criedI,“thatwilltakeusacrosstheverycomingofthesoldiers!”
“Ikenthatfine,”saidhe;“butifwearedrivenbackonAppin,wearetwodeadmen.Sonow,Davidman,bebrisk!”
Withthathebegantorunforwardonhishandsandkneeswithanincrediblequickness,asthoughitwerehisnaturalwayofgoing.Allthetime,too,hekeptwindinginandoutinthelowerpartsofthemoorlandwherewewerethebestconcealed.
