Читать «Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid» онлайн - страница 705
Н. А. Самуэльян
“Shtay!” cried the Jew, “I’she going with you ash far ash the Shumbé Rock. I may ash well wait there ash anywhere elshe. It ish no ushe my going home now. S’help me! I cannot resht till thish thing ish settled. And now, when I thinksh of it, you may ash well let Adam know for what he ish wanted – so ash he may come prepared. Say to him he ish to go shtraight to Mount Welcome – that ish, where it ushed to be. He’sh not to show hishelf there, but prosheed along the road, till he meets the Cushtos’ body, and them that ish with it. Then he ish to find some way to rescue the Shpaniards, an’ let them eshcape to me. You musht go along with Adam and hish men, elshe they may shpoil all. He musht bring his fellish well armed; you may shtand in need of them all. The messenger said there were some negroes from the eshtate of Content. Theesh won’t signify. They will all run away ash soon as you show yourselves; but the others may be inclined to make fight. There ish Cubina, and the young raschal of an Englishman, besides that giant Quaco, and the messenger hishself. You thinksh you can manage them, Shakra?”
“Sure ob dat.”
“You musht take them by an ambushcade.”
“P’raps we kill some o’ dem.”
“Ash many ash you like. Only make shure to get the Shpaniards off.”
“Be no great harm to kill dem too – atter de fool dey hab made ob demselves, lettin’ dem fellas take um pris’ner dat a way. Whugh!”
“No, no, goot Shakra! – we mushn’t kill our friendsh – we may need them again. You may promish Adam goot pay for the shob. I don’t care for the cosht, so long as it ish clefferly done.”
“All right, Massr Jake; leab dat to me an’ Adam. We do de ting clebberly ’nuf, I’se be boun’.”
And with this assurance Chakra strode off up the mountain, the Jew having set the example by starting forward in advance of him.
Chapter 40
Dead, or Asleep?
On beholding what he believed to be the dead body of his cousin, the grief of Herbert Vaughan proclaimed itself in a wild cry – in tones of the bitterest agony. He flung his gun upon the rock – knelt down by the side of the corpse – raised her head upon his arm, and, gazing upon that face, in death beautiful as ever, drew it nearer to his own, kissed the cold, unconscious lips – kissed them again and again, as though he had hopes that the warmth of his love might re-animate the fair form over which he was bending.
For some time his frenzied caresses were continued – their fervour unchecked by the presence of his rude companions who stood around. Respecting the sanctity of his grief, all observed a solemn silence. Nor word nor sound escaped the lips of any one. Sobs alone proceeded from Cubina. The Maroon had also cause to sorrow at that sad spectacle – but these were not heard. They were drowned by a more powerful voice – the melancholy monotone of the cataract – that had been speaking incessantly since the creation of the world.
It was a long time before the heart of Herbert consented to his discontinuing those cold but sweet kisses – the first he had ever had; the last he was destined to have – from those pale lips; long before he could withdraw his supporting arm from beneath that beautiful head, whose shining tresses lay dishevelled along the rock.