Возвращение на родину

VII. The Tragic Meeting of Two Old Friends

           AteachbrushingofClym’sfeetwhitemillermothsflewintotheairjusthighenoughtocatchupontheirdustywingsthemellowedlightfromthewest,whichnowshoneacrossthedepressionsandlevelsofthegroundwithoutfallingthereontolightthemup.

           Yeobrightwalkedonamidthisquietscenewithahopethatallwouldsoonbewell.Threemilesonhecametoaspotwhereasoftperfumewaswaftedacrosshispath,andhestoodstillforamomenttoinhalethefamiliarscent.Itwastheplaceatwhich,fourhoursearlier,hismotherhadsatdownexhaustedontheknollcoveredwithshepherd’s-thyme.Whilehestoodasoundbetweenabreathingandamoansuddenlyreachedhisears.

           Helookedtowherethesoundcamefrom;butnothingappearedtheresavethevergeofthehillockstretchingagainsttheskyinanunbrokenline.Hemovedafewstepsinthatdirection,andnowheperceivedarecumbentfigurealmostclosetohisfeet.

           Amongthedifferentpossibilitiesastotheperson’sindividualitytheredidnotforamomentoccurtoYeobrightthatitmightbeoneofhisownfamily.Sometimesfurze-cuttershadbeenknowntosleepoutofdoorsatthesetimes,tosavealongjourneyhomewardandbackagain;butClymrememberedthemoanandlookedcloser,andsawthattheformwasfeminine;andadistresscameoverhimlikecoldairfromacave.Buthewasnotabsolutelycertainthatthewomanwashismothertillhestoopedandbeheldherface,pallid,andwithclosedeyes.

           Hisbreathwent,asitwere,outofhisbodyandthecryofanguishwhichwouldhaveescapedhimdieduponhislips.

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