Тридцять дев’ять ступенів
Chapter 5
Nowmylifeontheveldhasgivenmetheeyesofakite,andIcanseethingsforwhichmostmenneedatelescope....Awaydowntheslope,acoupleofmilesaway,severalmenwereadvancing,likearowofbeatersatashoot.
Idroppedoutofsightbehindthesky-line.Thatwaywasshuttome,andImusttrythebiggerhillstothesouthbeyondthehighway.ThecarIhadnoticedwasgettingnearer,butitwasstillalongwayoffwithsomeverysteepgradientsbeforeit.Iranhard,crouchinglowexceptinthehollows,andasIranIkeptscanningthebrowofthehillbeforeme.Wasitimagination,ordidIseefigures—one,two,perhapsmore—movinginaglenbeyondthestream?
Ifyouarehemmedinonallsidesinapatchoflandthereisonlyonechanceofescape.Youmuststayinthepatch,andletyourenemiessearchitandnotfindyou.Thatwasgoodsense,buthowonearthwasItoescapenoticeinthattable-clothofaplace?Iwouldhaveburiedmyselftotheneckinmudorlainbelowwaterorclimbedthetallesttree.Buttherewasnotastickofwood,thebog-holeswerelittlepuddles,thestreamwasaslendertrickle.Therewasnothingbutshortheather,andbarehillbent,andthewhitehighway.
Theninatinybightofroad,besideaheapofstones,Ifoundtheroadman.
Hehadjustarrived,andwaswearilyflingingdownhishammer.Helookedatmewithafishyeyeandyawned.
“ConfoondthedayIeverlefttheherdin’!”hesaid,asiftotheworldatlarge.“ThereIwasmyainmaister.