Возвращение на родину

III. The First Act in a Timeworn Drama

           

           Fairwaythenlitalantern,tiedittoanothercord,andbeganloweringitintothewellbesidethefirst:Clymcameforwardandlookeddown.Strangehumidleaves,whichknewnothingoftheseasonsoftheyear,andquaint-naturedmosseswererevealedonthewellsideasthelanterndescended;tillitsraysfelluponaconfusedmassofropeandbucketdanglinginthedank,darkair.

           “We’veonlygotenbytheedgeofthehoop—steady,forGod’ssake!”saidFairway.

           Theypulledwiththegreatestgentleness,tillthewetbucketappearedabouttwoyardsbelowthem,likeadeadfriendcometoearthagain.Threeorfourhandswerestretchedout,thenjerkwenttherope,whizzwentthewheel,thetwoforemosthaulersfellbackward,thebeatingofafallingbodywasheard,recedingdownthesidesofthewell,andathunderousuproararoseatthebottom.Thebucketwasgoneagain.

           “Damnthebucket!”saidFairway.

           “Loweragain,”saidSam.

           “I’masstiffasaram’shornstoopingsolong,”saidFairway,standingupandstretchinghimselftillhisjointscreaked.

           “Restafewminutes,Timothy,”saidYeobright.“I’lltakeyourplace.”

           Thegrapnelwasagainlowered.Itssmartimpactuponthedistantwaterreachedtheirearslikeakiss,whereuponYeobrightkneltdown,andleaningoverthewellbegandraggingthegrapnelroundandroundasFairwayhaddone.

           “Tiearoperoundhim—itisdangerous!”criedasoftandanxiousvoicesomewhereabovethem.

           Everybodyturned.Thespeakerwasawoman,gazingdownuponthegroupfromanupperwindow,whosepanesblazedintheruddyglarefromthewest.

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