Белые люди
Chapter II
WhenIrantolookforhershewasnowhere.Icouldnotfindher,andIwentbacktoJeanandAngus,feelingpuzzled.
“Wheredidshego?”Iaskedthem,turningmyheadfromsidetoside.
Theywerelookingatmestrangely,andbothofthemwerepale.Jeanwastremblingalittle.
“Whowasshe,Ysobel?”shesaid.
“Thelittlegirlthemenbroughttoplaywithme,”Ianswered,stilllookingaboutme.
“Thebigoneontheblackhorseputherdown—thebigonewiththestarhere.”Itouchedmyforeheadwherethequeerscarhadbeen.
ForaminuteAngusforgothimself.Yearslaterhetoldme.
“DarkMalcolmoftheGlen,”hebrokeout.“WeeBrownElspeth.”
“Butsheiswhite—quitewhite!”Isaid.
“Wheredidshego?”
Jeansweptmeinherwarm,shakingarmsandhuggedmeclosetoherbreast.
“She’soneofthefairones,”shesaid,kissingandpattingme.“Shewillcomeagain.She’llcomeoften,Idaresay.Butshe’sgonenowandwemustgo,too.Getup,Angus,man.We’reforthecastle.”
Ifwethreehadbeendifferent—ifwehadeverhadthehabitoftalkingandaskingquestions—wemightsurelyhaveaskedoneanotherquestionsasIrodeonSheltie’sback,withAngusleadingus.Buttheyaskedmenothing,andIsaidverylittleexceptthatIoncespokeofthewild-lookinghorsemenandtheirpale,joyousfaces.
“Theywereglad,”wasallIsaid.
TherewasalsoonebriefqueryfromAngus.
“Didshetalktoyou,bairnie?”hesaid.
Ihesitatedandstaredathimquitealongtime.ThenIshookmyheadandanswered,slowly,“N-no.
