Вершник без голови

Chapter 43

           Ahorsemanwasseencomingoutfromamongthetreesupontheotherside,andheadingtowardstheAlamo.

           Hewasstillmorethanamiledistant;but,evenatthatdistance,thefaithfulservantcouldidentifyhismaster.ThestripedserapéofbrillianthuesatrueNavajoblanket,whichMauricewasaccustomedtotakewithhimwhentravellingwasnottobemistaken.Itgleamedgaudilyundertheglareofthesettingsunitsbandsofred,white,andblue,contrastingwiththesombretintsofthesterileplain.

           Phelimonlywondered,thathismastershouldhaveitspreadoverhisshouldersonsuchasultryeveninginsteadoffoldedup,andstrappedtothecantleofhissaddle!

           "Trath,Tara!itlooksquare,doesn’tit?It’shotenoughtoroastastakeuponthesestones;anyitthemastherdon’tseemtothinkso.Ihopehehasn’tcaughtacowldfromstayin’inthatclosecribatowldDuffer’stavern.Itwasn’tfitforapigtodwillin.Ourownshanty’sasplindidparlourtoit."

           Thespeakerwasforatimesilent,watchingthemovementsoftheapproachinghorsemanbythistimeabouthalfamiledistant,andstilldrawingnearer.

           Whenhisvoicewasputforthagainitwasinatonealtogetherchanged.Itwasstillthatofsurprise,withanapproachtowardsmerriment.Butitwasmirththatdoubtedoftheludicrous;andseemedtostruggleunderrestraint.

           "MotheravMoses!"criedhe.

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