Белые люди
Chapter VIII
Forafewmomentswewerebothquitestill.
“ItisthetaleofIanRedHandandDarkMalcolmyouarereading?”hesaid,atlast.
“AndWeeBrownElspeth,whowasfoughtforandkilled,”Iadded,slowly.
Angusnoddedhisheadwithasadface.“Itwastheonlywayforafather,”hesaid.“AhoundofhellwasIan.Suchmenweresavagebeastsinthosedays,nothuman.”
Itouchedthemanuscriptwithmyhandquestioningly.“Didthisfallatthebacktherebyaccident,”Iasked,“ordidyouhideit?”
“Idid,”heanswered.“Itwasnotaleforayoungthingtoread.Ihavehiddenmanyfromyou.Youwerealwayspokingaboutincorners,Ysobel.”
ThenIsatandthoughtoverpastmemoriesforawhileandtheshadowsintheroomdeepened.
“Why,”Isaid,laggingly,afterthesilence—“whydidIcallthechildwhousedtoplaywithme‘WeeBrownElspeth’?”
“Itwasyourownfancy,”washisreply.“Iusedtowondermyself;butImadeupmymindthatyouhadheardsomeofthemaidstalkingandthenamehadcaughtyourear.Thatwouldbeachild’sway.”
Iputmyforeheadinmyhandsandthoughtagain.Somanyyearshadpassed!Ihadbeenlittlemorethanababy;thewholethingseemedlikeahalf-forgottendreamwhenItriedtorecallit—butIseemedtodimlyrememberstrangethings.
“Whowerethewildmenwhobroughthertomefirst—thatdayonthemoor?”Isaid.“Idoremembertheyhadpale,savage,exultantfaces.Andtorn,stainedclothes.Andbrokendirksandswords.Buttheyweregladofsomething.Whowerethey?”
“Ididnotseethem.
