Белые люди
Chapter II
Thegreat,leanriderlookedatmeamoment,andthen,liftingthelittlegirlinhislongarms,bentdownandsethergentlyonherfeetonthemossyearthinthemistbesideme.Igotuptogreether,andwestoodsmilingateachother.Andinthatmomentaswestoodtheblackhorsemovedforward,themuffledtramplingbeganagain,thewildcompanysweptonitsway,andthewhitemistclosedbehinditasifithadneverpassed.
OfcourseIknowhowstrangethiswillseemtopeoplewhoreadit,butthatcannotbehelpedanddoesnotreallymatter.Itwasinthatwaythethinghappened,anditdidnotevenseemstrangetome.Anythingmighthappenonthemoor—anything.Andtherewasthefairlittlegirlwiththeeyeslikeadoe’s.
Iknewshehadcometoplaywithme,andwewenttogethertomyhouseamongthebushesofbroomandgorseandplayedhappily.ButbeforewebeganIsawherstandandlookwonderinglyatthedark-redstainontheembroideriesonherchildishbreast.Itwasasifshewereaskingherselfhowitcamethereandcouldnotunderstand.Thenshepickedafernandabunchofthethick-growingbluebellsandputtheminhergirdleinsuchawaythattheyhiditsugliness.
Ididnotreallyknowhowlongshestayed.Ionlyknewthatwewerehappy,andthat,thoughherwayofplayingwasinsomewaysdifferentfrommine,Iloveditandher.Presentlythemistliftedandthesunshone,andweweredeepinawonderfulgameofbeinghiddeninaroominacastlebecausesomethingstrangewasgoingtohappenwhichwewerenottoldabout.Sheranbehindabiggorsebushanddidnotcomeback.
