Веснушки
Chapter XVII
Nowheundoubtedlywishesfordeath,andthatitcomequickly.”
“Thenhemustdie,”saidMcLean.
Hisbroadshouldersshookconvulsively.Hisstronghandsopenedandclosedmechanically.
“Doesthatmeanthatyouknowwhathedesiresandcannot,orwillnot,supplyit?”
McLeangroanedinmisery.
“Itmeans,”hesaiddesperately,“thatIknowwhathewants,butitisasfarremovedfrommypowertohelphimasitwouldbetogivehimastar.Thethingforwhichhewilldie,hecanneverhave.”
“Thenyoumustpreparefortheendveryshortly”saidthesurgeon,turningabruptlyaway.
McLeancaughthisarmroughly.
“Youlookhere!”hecriedindesperation.“YousaythatasifIcoulddosomethingifIwould.Itellyoutheboyisdeartomepastexpression.Iwoulddoanything—spendanysum.Youhavenoticedandrepeatedlycommentedontheyounggirlwithme.Itisthatchildthathewants!Heworshipshertoadoration,andknowinghecanneverbeanythingtoher,heprefersdeathtolife.InGod’sname,whatcanIdoaboutit?”
“Barringthatmissinghand,Ineverexaminedafinerman,”saidthesurgeon,“andsheseemedperfectlydevotedtohim;whycannothehaveher?”
“Why?”echoedMcLean.“Why?Well,formanyreasons!Itoldyouhewasmyson.Youprobablyknewthathewasnot.AlittleoverayearagoIneverhadseenhim.Hejoinedoneofmylumbergangsfromtheroad.Heisastray,leftatoneofyourhomesforthefriendlesshereinChicago.Whenhegrewupthesuperintendentboundhimtoabrutalman.Heranawayandlandedinoneofmylumbercamps.
