Запретный лес

           "IntheafternoonhesetouttowalktotheGreenshiel,sincetheroadwouldgivehimafar-awayglimpseofCalidon.Autumnwasalreadychillingtheair,andthehorizonwasasmokypurple,theheatherwasfaded,thebrackenyellowing,therowantreesplumedwithscarlet,thecorninthevalleyalreadymoregoldthangreen.ToDavid,inwhoseearwasstillthegloatingvoiceofPeterPennecuik,theplaceseemedtosmellofdeath.

           AttheGreenshielhefounddeathinbodilyform.Ontheplotofturfoutsidethecottagehalfadozentroopersstaredfromtheirsaddlesatsomethingthatlayontheground.Themenweremostlyalittledrunk,andhadtheairofapackofterrierswhohavechasedacatandfounditatbay--anairthatwaspuzzled,angry,andirresolute.Davidstrodetowardsthem,andtheygaveplacetohim,somewhatshamefacedly.Ontheturflayawretcheddraggle-tailedwoman,herclothesalmosttornoffherback,herhairinelf-locks,herbarefeetrawandbloody.Herfacewasemaciatedandofanextremepallor,hershrunkenbreastheavedconvulsively,andtherewasbloodonherneck.RichieSmailwasonhiskneesattemptingtoforcesomemilkbetweenherteeth.Butherlipsshutandunshutwithherpanting,andthemilkwasspilled.Thenhermouthclosedinthatrigorfromwhichthereisnounloosing.

           Richieliftedhisheadandsawtheminister.

           "She’sbyewi’t,"hesaid."Puirthing,puirthing!Sheraninherelikeahuntedmaukin."Thentothesoldiers:"Yehadsurelylittletodae,lads,tomishandleastarvin’lassie."

           Therewasnosignofcompunctiononthecoarsefacesofthetroopers.