Рождественская история
Chapter 3
Passingthroughthewallofmudandstone,theyfoundacheerfulcompanyassembledroundaglowingfire.Anold,oldmanandwoman,withtheirchildrenandtheirchildren’schildren,andanothergenerationbeyondthat,alldeckedoutgailyintheirholidayattire.Theoldman,inavoicethatseldomroseabovethehowlingofthewinduponthebarrenwaste,wassingingthemaChristmassong—ithadbeenaveryoldsongwhenhewasaboy—andfromtimetotimetheyalljoinedinthechorus.Sosurelyastheyraisedtheirvoices,theoldmangotquiteblitheandloud;andsosurelyastheystopped,hisvigoursankagain.
TheSpiritdidnottarryhere,butbadeScroogeholdhisrobe,andpassingonabovethemoor,sped—whither?Nottosea.Tosea!ToScrooge’shorror,lookingback,hesawthelastoftheland,afrightfulrangeofrocks,behindthem;andhisearsweredeafenedbythethunderingofwater,asitrolledandroared,andragedamongthedreadfulcavernsithadworn,andfiercelytriedtounderminetheearth.
Builtuponadismalreefofsunkenrocks,someleagueorsofromshore,onwhichthewaterschafedanddashed,thewildyearthrough,therestoodasolitarylighthouse.Greatheapsofsea-weedclungtoitsbase,andstorm-birds—bornofthewindonemightsuppose,assea-weedofthewater—roseandfellaboutit,likethewavestheyskimmed.
Butevenhere,twomenwhowatchedthelighthadmadeafire,thatthroughtheloopholeinthethickstonewallshedoutarayofbrightnessontheawfulsea.
