Возвращение на родину

III. The Custom of the Country

           “Myankleswereallinafeverbefore,fromwalkingthroughthatpricklyfurze,andnowyoumustmake’emworsewiththesevlankers!”

           ThevagaryofTimothyFairwaywasinfectious.Theturf-cutterseizedoldOllyDowden,and,somewhatmoregently,poussettedwithherlikewise.Theyoungmenwerenotslowtoimitatetheexampleoftheirelders,andseizedthemaids;GrandferCantleandhisstickjiggedintheformofathree-leggedobjectamongtherest;andinhalfaminuteallthatcouldbeseenonRainbarrowwasawhirlingofdarkshapesamidaboilingconfusionofsparks,whichleaptaroundthedancersashighastheirwaists.Thechiefnoiseswerewomen’sshrillcries,men’slaughter,Susan’sstaysandpattens,OllyDowden’s“heu-heu-heu!”andthestrummingofthewinduponthefurze-bushes,whichformedakindoftunetothedemoniacmeasuretheytrod.Christianalonestoodaloof,uneasilyrockinghimselfashemurmured,“Theyoughtnottodoit—howthevlankersdofly!’tistemptingtheWickedone,’tis.”

           “Whatwasthat?”saidoneofthelads,stopping.

           “Ah—where?”saidChristian,hastilyclosinguptotherest.

           Thedancersalllessenedtheirspeed.

           “’Twasbehindyou,Christian,thatIheardit—downhere.”

           “Yes—’tisbehindme!”Christiansaid.“Matthew,Mark,Luke,andJohn,blessthebedthatIlieon;fourangelsguard—”

           “Holdyourtongue.Whatisit?”saidFairway.

           “Hoi-i-i-i!”criedavoicefromthedarkness.

           “Halloo-o-o-o!”saidFairway.

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