Крошка Доррит

Chapter 1. Fellow Travellers

           Icicle-hungcavesandcellarsbuiltforrefugesfromsuddenstorms,werelikesomanywhispersoftheperilsoftheplace;never-restingwreathsandmazesofmistwanderedabout,huntedbyamoaningwind;andsnow,thebesettingdangerofthemountain,againstwhichallitsdefencesweretaken,driftedsharplydown.

           Thefileofmules,jadedbytheirday’swork,turnedandwoundslowlyupthedeepascent;theforemostledbyaguideonfoot,inhisbroad-brimmedhatandroundjacket,carryingamountainstaffortwouponhisshoulder,withwhomanotherguideconversed.Therewasnospeakingamongthestringofriders.Thesharpcold,thefatigueofthejourney,andanewsensationofacatchinginthebreath,partlyasiftheyhadjustemergedfromveryclearcrispwater,andpartlyasiftheyhadbeensobbing,keptthemsilent.

           Atlength,alightonthesummitoftherockystaircasegleamedthroughthesnowandmist.Theguidescalledtothemules,themulesprickeduptheirdroopingheads,thetravellers’tongueswereloosened,andinasuddenburstofslipping,climbing,jingling,clinking,andtalking,theyarrivedattheconventdoor.

           Othermuleshadarrivednotlongbefore,somewithpeasantridersandsomewithgoods,andhadtroddenthesnowaboutthedoorintoapoolofmud.Riding-saddlesandbridles,pack-saddlesandstringsofbells,mulesandmen,lanterns,torches,sacks,provender,barrels,cheeses,kegsofhoneyandbutter,strawbundlesandpackagesofmanyshapes,werecrowdedconfusedlytogetherinthisthawedquagmireandaboutthesteps.

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