Похищенный
Chapter 6
Alexander,thatwaslikethedeathofhim.”
“Andwhatwasit?”Iasked.
“Ou,justthathehadkilledhim,”saidthelandlord.“Didyeneverhearthat?”
“Andwhatwouldhekillhimfor?”saidI.
“Andwhatfor,butjusttogettheplace,”saidhe.
“Theplace?”saidI.“TheShaws?”
“NaeotherplacethatIken,”saidhe.
“Ay,man?”saidI.“Isthatso?Wasmy—wasAlexandertheeldestson?”
“‘Deedwashe,”saidthelandlord.“Whatelsewouldhehavekilledhimfor?”
Andwiththathewentaway,ashehadbeenimpatienttodofromthebeginning.
Ofcourse,Ihadguesseditalongwhileago;butitisonethingtoguess,anothertoknow;andIsatstunnedwithmygoodfortune,andcouldscarcegrowtobelievethatthesamepoorladwhohadtrudgedinthedustfromEttrickForestnottwodaysago,wasnowoneoftherichoftheearth,andhadahouseandbroadlands,andmightmounthishorsetomorrow.Allthesepleasantthings,andathousandothers,crowdedintomymind,asIsatstaringbeforemeoutoftheinnwindow,andpayingnoheedtowhatIsaw;onlyIrememberthatmyeyelightedonCaptainHoseasondownonthepieramonghisseamen,andspeakingwithsomeauthority.Andpresentlyhecamemarchingbacktowardsthehouse,withnomarkofasailor’sclumsiness,butcarryinghisfine,tallfigurewithamanlybearing,andstillwiththesamesober,graveexpressiononhisface.IwonderedifitwaspossiblethatRansome’sstoriescouldbetrue,andhalfdisbelievedthem;theyfittedsoillwiththeman’slooks.
