Етюд у багряних тонах

           TheMormonlookedathimwithundisguisedastonishment—indeed,itwasdifficulttorecognizeinthistattered,unkemptwanderer,withghastlywhitefaceandfierce,wildeyes,thespruceyounghunterofformerdays. Having,however,atlast,satisfiedhimselfastohisidentity,theman’ssurprisechangedtoconsternation. 

           “Youaremadtocomehere,”hecried. “Itisasmuchasmyownlifeisworthtobeseentalkingwithyou. ThereisawarrantagainstyoufromtheHolyFourforassistingtheFerriersaway.” 

           “Idon’tfearthem,ortheirwarrant,”Hopesaid,earnestly. “Youmustknowsomethingofthismatter,Cowper. Iconjureyoubyeverythingyouholddeartoanswerafewquestions. Wehavealwaysbeenfriends. ForGod’ssake,don’trefusetoanswerme.” 

           “Whatisit?”theMormonaskeduneasily. “Bequick. Theveryrockshaveearsandthetreeseyes.” 

           “WhathasbecomeofLucyFerrier?” 

           “ShewasmarriedyesterdaytoyoungDrebber. Holdup,man,holdup,youhavenolifeleftinyou.” 

           “Don’tmindme,”saidHopefaintly.Hewaswhitetotheverylips,andhadsunkdownonthestoneagainstwhichhehadbeenleaning. “Married,yousay?”