Белые люди
Chapter I
Thelibrarywasamarvelousplace,andMacayrekneweveryvolumeinit.Theyusedtositandreadlikechildrenamongfairystories,andthentheywouldpersuadeMacayretotellthemtheancienttalesheknew—ofthedayswhenAgricolaforcedhiswayinamongtheMenoftheWoods,whowoulddieanysavagedeathratherthanbeconquered.Macayrewasasortofheirloomhimself,andheknewandbelievedthemall.
Idon’tknowhowitwasthatImyselfseemedtoseemyyoungfatherandmothersoclearlyandtoknowhowradiantandwildlyinlovetheywere.SurelyJeanBraidfutehadnotwordstotellme.ButIknew.SoIunderstood,inawayofmyown,whathappenedtomymotheronebrilliantlateOctoberafternoonwhenmyfatherwasbroughthomedead—followedbytheguestswhohadgoneoutshootingwithhim.Hisfoothadcaughtinatuftofheather,andhisguningoingoffhadkilledhim.OnemomenthehadbeenthehandsomestyoungchieftaininScotland,andwhenhewasbroughthometheycouldnothaveletmymotherseehisface.
Butsheneveraskedtoseeit.Shewasontheterracewhichjutsovertherockthecastleisbuilton,andwhichlooksoutoverthepurpleworldofclimbingmoor.Shesawfromtherethereturningpartyofshootersandgillieswindingitswayslowlythroughtheheather,followingaburdencarriedonastretcheroffirboughs.Someofherwomenguestswerewithher,andoneofthemsaidafterwardthatwhenshefirstcaughtsightofthemovingfiguresshegotupslowlyandcrepttothestonebalustradewithacrouchingmovementalmostlikeayoungleopardesspreparingtospring.
