Мхи старой усадьбы
Drowne's Wooden Image
Butthegoodcaptainmighthavebeenarrayedintherobesofaprinceortheragsofabeggar,withoutineithercaseattractingnotice,whileobscuredbysuchacompanionasnowleanedonhisarm.Thepeopleinthestreetstarted,rubbedtheireyes,andeitherleapedasidefromtheirpath,orstoodasiftransfixedtowoodormarbleinastonishment.
"Doyouseeit?—doyouseeit?"criedone,withtremulouseagerness."Itistheverysame!"
"Thesame?"answeredanother,whohadarrivedintownonlythenightbefore."Whodoyoumean?Iseeonlyasea-captaininhisshoregoingclothes,andayoungladyinaforeignhabit,withabunchofbeautifulflowersinherhat.Onmyword,sheisasfairandbrightadamselasmyeyeshavelookedonthismanyaday!"
"Yes;thesame!—theverysame!"repeatedtheother."Drowne’swoodenimagehascometolife!"
Herewasamiracleindeed!Yet,illuminatedbythesunshine,ordarkenedbythealternateshadeofthehouses,andwithitsgarmentsflutteringlightlyinthemorningbreeze,therepassedtheimagealongthestreet.Itwasexactlyandminutelytheshape,thegarb,andthefacewhichthetowns-peoplehadsorecentlythrongedtoseeandadmire.Notarichfloweruponherhead,notasingleleaf,buthadhaditsprototypeinDrowne’swoodenworkmanship,althoughnowtheirfragilegracehadbecomeflexible,andwasshakenbyeveryfootstepthatthewearermade.Thebroadgoldchainupontheneckwasidenticalwiththeonerepresentedontheimage,andglistenedwiththemotionimpartedbytheriseandfallofthebosomwhichitdecorated.
