Всадник без головы

Chapter 40

           Itappeareddoublethatofanordinarymanuponanordinaryhorse.Itwasmorelikeagiantonagiganticsteed;thoughthismighthavebeenowingtotheillusorylightunderwhichitwasseen—therefractionofthesun’srayspassinghorizontallythroughthetremulousatmosphereoftheparchedplain.

           Therewasbutlittletimetophilosophise—notenoughtocompleteacarefulscrutinyoftheunearthlyapparition,whicheveryonepresent,withhandspreadoverhiseyestoshadethemfromthedazzlingglare,wasendeavouringtomake.

           Nothingofcolourcouldbenoted—neitherthegarmentsoftheman,northehairycoatofthehorse.Onlytheshapecouldbetraced,outlinedinsablesilhouetteagainstthegoldenbackgroundofthesky;andthisineverychangeofattitude,whetherfrontingthespectators,orturnedsterntowardsthem,wasstillthesame—stillthatinexplicablephenomenon:ahorsemanwithoutahead!

           Wasitaphantom?Surelyitcouldnotbehuman?

           "’TisoldNickuponhorseback!"criedafearlessfrontiersman,whowouldscarcehavequailedtoencounterhisSatanicmajestyeveninthatguise."Bythe’tarnalAlmighty,it’sthedevilhimself."

           Theboisterouslaughwhichsucceededtheprofaneutteranceoftherecklessspeaker,whileitonlyaddedtotheaweofhislesscourageouscomrades,appearedtoproduceaneffectontheheadlesshorseman.Wheelingsuddenlyround—hishorseatthesametimesendingforthascreamthatcausedeithertheearthortheatmospheretotremble—hecommencedgallopingaway

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