Тридцать девять ступеней
Chapter 4
Theeveningwasnowdrawingin,andIwasfuriouslyhungry,forIhadeatennothingsincebreakfastexceptacoupleofbunsIhadboughtfromabaker’scart.
JustthenIheardanoiseinthesky,andloandbeholdtherewasthatinfernalaeroplane,flyinglow,aboutadozenmilestothesouthandrapidlycomingtowardsme.
IhadthesensetorememberthatonabaremoorIwasattheaeroplane’smercy,andthatmyonlychancewastogettotheleafycoverofthevalley.DownthehillIwentlikebluelightning,screwingmyheadround,wheneverIdared,towatchthatdamnedflyingmachine.SoonIwasonaroadbetweenhedges,anddippingtothedeep-cutglenofastream.ThencameabitofthickwoodwhereIslackenedspeed.
SuddenlyonmyleftIheardthehootofanothercar,andrealizedtomyhorrorthatIwasalmostuponacoupleofgate-poststhroughwhichaprivateroaddebouchedonthehighway.Myhorngaveanagonizedroar,butitwastoolate.Iclappedonmybrakes,butmyimpetuswastoogreat,andtherebeforemeacarwasslidingathwartmycourse.Inasecondtherewouldhavebeenthedeuceofawreck.Ididtheonlythingpossible,andranslapintothehedgeontheright,trustingtofindsomethingsoftbeyond.
ButthereIwasmistaken.Mycarslitheredthroughthehedgelikebutter,andthengaveasickeningplungeforward.Isawwhatwascoming,leaptontheseatandwouldhavejumpedout.