Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 8
Yes,andinmydreams,often,Igotoffthelittlenarrow-gaugetrainwherethestragglyvillagestoodbesidethebigdrycreek,andgotintothebuckboardbehindmymountainhorses,anddrovehourbyhourpastalltheoldfamiliarlandmarksofmyalfalfameadows,andontomyuplandpastureswheremyrotatedcropsofcornandbarleyandcloverwereripeforharvestingandwhereIwatchedmymenengagedintheharvest,whilebeyond,everclimbing,mygoatsbrowsedthehigherslopesofbrushintocleared,tilledfields.
Buttheseweredreams,frankdreams,fanciedadventuresofmydeductivesubconsciousmind.Quiteunlikethem,asyoushallsee,weremyotheradventureswhenIpassedthroughthegatesofthelivingdeathandrelivedtherealityoftheotherlivesthathadbeenmineinotherdays.
InthelonghoursofwakinginthejacketIfoundthatIdweltagreatdealonCecilWinwood,thepoet-forgerwhohadwantonlyputallthistormentonme,andwhowaseventhenatlibertyoutinthefreeworldagain.No;Ididnothatehim.Thewordistooweak.Thereisnowordinthelanguagestrongenoughtodescribemyfeelings.IcansayonlythatIknewthegnawingofadesireforvengeanceonhimthatwasapaininitselfandthatexceededalltheboundsoflanguage.IshallnottellyouofthehoursIdevotedtoplansoftortureonhim,norofthediabolicalmeansanddevicesoftorturethatIinventedforhim.Justoneexample
