Пітер Пен і Венді
The Island Come True
Hestoodforalongtimelostinthought,andatlastacurdlingsmilelituphisswarthyface.Smeehadbeenwaitingforit.’Unripyourplan,captain,’hecriedeagerly.
’Toreturntotheship,’Hookrepliedslowlythroughhisteeth,’andcookalargerichcakeofajollythicknesswithgreensugaronit.Therecanbebutoneroombelow,forthereisbutonechimney.Thesillymoleshadnotthesensetoseethattheydidnotneedadoorapiece.Thatshowstheyhavenomother.Wewillleavethecakeontheshoreofthemermaids’lagoon.Theseboysarealwaysswimmingaboutthere,playingwiththemermaids.Theywillfindthecakeandtheywillgobbleitup,because,havingnomother,theydon’tknowhowdangerous’tistoeatrichdampcake.’Heburstintolaughter,nothollowlaughternow,buthonestlaughter.’Aha,theywilldie.’
Smeehadlistenedwithgrowingadmiration.
’It’sthewickedest,prettiestpolicyeverIheardof,’hecried,andintheirexultationtheydancedandsang:
’Avast,belay,whenIappear,
Byfearthey’reovertook;
Nought’sleftuponyourboneswhenyou
HaveshakenclawswithCook.’
Theybegantheverse,buttheyneverfinishedit,foranothersoundbrokeinandstilledthem.Itwasatfirstsuchatinysoundthataleafmighthavefallenonitandsmotheredit,butasitcameneareritwasmoredistinct.
Ticktickticktick.
Hookstoodshuddering,onefootintheair.
’Thecrocodile,’hegasped,andboundedaway,followedbyhisbo’sun.
Itwasindeedthecrocodile.Ithadpassedtheredskins,whowerenowonthetrailoftheotherpirates.
