Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

April’s Lady

           Here’sagraveIdidn’tseebeforethisoneintheironrailingoh,girls,look,seethestonesaysit’sthegraveofamiddywhowaskilledinthefightbetweentheShannonandtheChesapeake.Justfancy!”

           Annepausedbytherailingandlookedatthewornstone,herpulsesthrillingwithsuddenexcitement.Theoldgraveyard,withitsover-archingtreesandlongaislesofshadows,fadedfromhersight.Instead,shesawtheKingsportHarborofnearlyacenturyagone.Outofthemistcameslowlyagreatfrigate,brilliantwith“themeteorflagofEngland.”Behindherwasanother,withastill,heroicform,wrappedinhisownstarryflag,lyingonthequarterdeckthegallantLawrence.Time’sfingerhadturnedbackhispages,andthatwastheShannonsailingtriumphantupthebaywiththeChesapeakeasherprize.

           “Comeback,AnneShirleycomeback,”laughedPhilippa,pullingherarm.“You’reahundredyearsawayfromus.Comeback.”

           Annecamebackwithasigh;hereyeswereshiningsoftly.

           “I’vealwayslovedthatoldstory,”shesaid,“andalthoughtheEnglishwonthatvictory,Ithinkitwasbecauseofthebrave,defeatedcommanderIloveit.Thisgraveseemstobringitsonearandmakeitsoreal.Thispoorlittlemiddywasonlyeighteen.He‘diedofdesperatewoundsreceivedingallantaction’soreadshisepitaph.Itissuchasasoldiermightwishfor.”

           Beforesheturnedaway,Anneunpinnedthelittleclusterofpurplepansiessheworeanddroppeditsoftlyonthegraveoftheboywhohadperishedinthegreatsea-duel

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