Возвращение на родину

VI. The Figure against the Sky

           Yes,Iheard’en!”

           “Thenitisgoingtorain,andyouhadbettergohome.Youwillnotbeafraid?”Shespokehurriedly,asifherhearthadleaptintoherthroatattheboy’swords.

           “No,becauseIshallhaethecrookedsixpence.”

           “Yes,hereitis.Nowrunasfastasyoucan—notthatway—throughthegardenhere.Nootherboyintheheathhashadsuchabonfireasyours.”

           Theboy,whoclearlyhadhadtoomuchofagoodthing,marchedawayintotheshadowswithalacrity.WhenhewasgoneEustacia,leavinghertelescopeandhourglassbythegate,brushedforwardfromthewickettowardstheangleofthebank,underthefire.

           Here,screenedbytheoutwork,shewaited.Inafewmomentsasplashwasaudiblefromthepondoutside.Hadthechildbeentherehewouldhavesaidthatasecondfroghadjumpedin;butbymostpeoplethesoundwouldhavebeenlikenedtothefallofastoneintothewater.Eustaciasteppeduponthebank.

           “Yes?”shesaid,andheldherbreath.

           Thereuponthecontourofamanbecamedimlyvisibleagainstthelow-reachingskyoverthevalley,beyondtheoutermarginofthepool.Hecamerounditandleaptuponthebankbesideher.Alowlaughescapedher—thethirdutterancewhichthegirlhadindulgedintonight.Thefirst,whenshestooduponRainbarrow,hadexpressedanxiety;thesecond,ontheridge,hadexpressedimpatience;thepresentwasoneoftriumphantpleasure.Sheletherjoyouseyesrestuponhimwithoutspeaking,asuponsomewondrousthingshehadcreatedoutofchaos.

           “Ihavecome,”saidtheman,whowasWildeve.“Yougivemenopeace.

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