Возвращение на родину

VII. The Night of the Sixth of November

           Probablyasmanyasfiftywerethusinserted,someintotheheadofthewaxmodel,someintotheshoulders,someintothetrunk,someupwardsthroughthesolesofthefeet,tillthefigurewascompletelypermeatedwithpins.

           Sheturnedtothefire.Ithadbeenofturf;andthoughthehighheapofasheswhichturffiresproducewassomewhatdarkanddeadontheoutside,uponrakingitabroadwiththeshoveltheinsideofthemassshowedaglowofredheat.Shetookafewpiecesoffreshturffromthechimney-cornerandbuiltthemtogetherovertheglow,uponwhichthefirebrightened.SeizingwiththetongstheimagethatshehadmadeofEustacia,shehelditintheheat,andwatcheditasitbegantowasteslowlyaway.Andwhileshestoodthusengagedtherecamefrombetweenherlipsamurmurofwords.

           Itwasastrangejargon—theLord’sPrayerrepeatedbackwards—theincantationusualinproceedingsforobtainingunhallowedassistanceagainstanenemy.Susanutteredthelugubriousdiscoursethreetimesslowly,andwhenitwascompletedtheimagehadconsiderablydiminished.Asthewaxdroppedintothefirealongflamearosefromthespot,andcurlingitstongueroundthefigureatestillfurtherintoitssubstance.Apinoccasionallydroppedwiththewax,andtheembersheateditredasitlay.

           

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