Дванадцять років рабства

           "Itisjustevenwiththeline,"Ireplied. 

           "You’read—dliar,"heexclaimedpassionately. 

           "Oh,well,master,"Isaid,mildly,"Iwillplaneitdownmoreifyousayso,"atthesametimeproceedingtodoasIsupposedhedesired. Beforeoneshavinghadbeenremoved,however,hecriedout,sayingIhadnowplanedittoodeep—itwastoosmall—Ihadspoiledthesweepentirely. Thenfollowedcursesandimprecations. Ihadendeavoredtodoexactlyashedirected,butnothingwouldsatisfytheunreasonableman. InsilenceandindreadIstoodbythesweep,holdingthejack-planeinmyhand,notknowingwhattodo,andnotdaringtobeidle. Hisangergrewmoreandmoreviolent,until,finally,withanoath,suchabitter,frightfuloathasonlyTibeatscouldutter,heseizedahatchetfromthework-benchanddartedtowardsme,swearinghewouldcutmyheadopen. 

           Itwasamomentoflifeordeath. Thesharp,brightbladeofthehatchetglitteredinthesun. Inanotherinstantitwouldbeburiedinmybrain,andyetinthatinstant—soquickwillaman’sthoughtscometohiminsuchafearfulstrait—Ireasonedwithmyself. IfIstoodstill,mydoomwascertain;ifIfled,tenchancestoonethehatchet,flyingfromhishandwithatoo-deadlyandunerringaim,wouldstrikemeintheback. Therewasbutonecoursetotake. Springingtowardshimwithallmypower,andmeetinghimfullhalf-way,beforehecouldbringdowntheblow,withonehandIcaughthisupliftedarm,withtheotherseizedhimbythethroat. Westoodlookingeachotherintheeyes.