Возвращение на родину

VIII. Those Who Are Found Where There Is Said to Be Nobody

           Instickingupthecandleheliftedthelanterntohisface,andthelightshoneintothewhitesofhiseyesanduponhisivoryteeth,which,incontrastwiththeredsurrounding,lenthimastartlingaspectenoughtothegazeofajuvenile.Theboyknewtoowellforhispeaceofminduponwhoselairhehadlighted.UglierpersonsthangipsieswereknowntocrossEgdonattimes,andareddlemanwasoneofthem.

           “HowIwish’twasonlyagipsy!”hemurmured.

           Themanwasbythistimecomingbackfromthehorses.Inhisfearofbeingseentheboyrendereddetectioncertainbynervousmotion.Theheatherandpeatstratumoverhungthebrowofthepitinmats,hidingtheactualverge.Theboyhadsteppedbeyondthesolidground;theheathernowgaveway,anddownherolledoverthescarpofgreysandtotheveryfootoftheman.

           Theredmanopenedthelanternandturnedituponthefigureoftheprostrateboy.

           “Whobeye?”hesaid.

           “JohnnyNunsuch,master!”

           “Whatwereyoudoingupthere?”

           “Idon’tknow.”

           “Watchingme,Isuppose?”

           “Yes,master.”

           “Whatdidyouwatchmefor?”

           “BecauseIwascominghomefromMissVye’sbonfire.”

           “Beesthurt?”

           “No.”

           “Why,yes,yoube—yourhandisbleeding.Comeundermytiltandletmetieitup.”

           “Pleaseletmelookformysixpence.”

           “Howdidyoucomebythat?”

           “MissVyegiedittomeforkeepingupherbonfire.”

           Thesixpencewasfound,andthemanwenttothevan,theboybehind,almostholdinghisbreath.

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