Тяжёлые времена

The Starlight

           Enginesatpits’mouths,andleanoldhorsesthathadwornthecircleoftheirdailylabourintotheground,werealikequiet;wheelshadceasedforashortspacetoturn;andthegreatwheelofearthseemedtorevolvewithouttheshocksandnoisesofanothertime.

           Theywalkedonacrossthefieldsanddowntheshadylanes,sometimesgettingoverafragmentofafencesorottenthatitdroppedatatouchofthefoot,sometimespassingnearawreckofbricksandbeamsovergrownwithgrass,markingthesiteofdesertedworks.Theyfollowedpathsandtracks,howeverslight.Moundswherethegrasswasrankandhigh,andwherebrambles,dock-weed,andsuch-likevegetation,wereconfusedlyheapedtogether,theyalwaysavoided;fordismalstoriesweretoldinthatcountryoftheoldpitshiddenbeneathsuchindications.

           Thesunwashighwhentheysatdowntorest.Theyhadseennoone,nearordistant,foralongtime;andthesolituderemainedunbroken.‘Itissostillhere,Rachael,andthewayissountrodden,thatIthinkwemustbethefirstwhohavebeenhereallthesummer.’

           AsSissysaidit,hereyeswereattractedbyanotherofthoserottenfragmentsoffenceupontheground.Shegotuptolookatit.‘AndyetIdon’tknow.Thishasnotbeenbrokenverylong.Thewoodisquitefreshwhereitgaveway.Herearefootstepstoo.ORachael!’

           Sheranback,andcaughtherroundtheneck.Rachaelhadalreadystartedup.

           ‘Whatisthematter?’

           ‘Idon’tknow.Thereisahatlyinginthegrass.’Theywentforwardtogether.

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