Всадник без головы

Chapter 57

           "Oh,señor!Donottellmethatheisill?"

           "Don’tItillye!Arrahnowmehoney;fwhatudbetheuseavconsalin’it?Ituddoitnogood;naythercyanitdohimanyharmtospakeaboutit?Yezmoightsayitaforehisface,anhewon’tconthradictye."

           "Heisill,then.O,sir,tellme,whatisthenatureofhisillnesswhathascausedit?"

           "ShureanIcyantansweronlywanavthiminterrogatariesthefirstyezhivphut.Hisdisazepursadesfromsomeuglytratementhe’sbeenresavintheLordonlyknowswhat,orwhoadministheredit.He’sgotabadlig;anhisskinluksasifhe’dbeentiedupinasackalongwidascoreavangrycats.Sowl!thare’snotthebrenthavyerpurtylittlehandwidoutascratchuponit.Worsethanall,he’sbesoidehisself."

           "Besidehimself?"

           "Yis,thatsame.He’sravin’loikewanthathadadhraptoomuchovernight,anthinksthare’sthemanwidthepokeraftherhim.Bemetrath,Ibelavetheverybistthingforhimnowudbeathrifleavpotheenifwancudonlylayhandsuponthatsame.Butthare’snotthesmellavitinthecyabin.Boththedimmy-jananflask.Arrah,now;youwouldn’tbeaftherhavin’alittleflaskuponyersweetsilf?Someavthatagwardinty,asyerpeoplecallit.Trath,I’vetastedworsestuffthanit.I’mshureadhrinkavituddothemasthergood.Spakethetruth,misthress!Hivyezanyaboutye?"

           "No,señor.Ihavenothingofthekind.IamsorryIhavenot."

           "Faugh!Themore’sthepityforpoorMastherMaurice.

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