Всадник без головы

Chapter 3

           Doyoumeantosaythatthedespatch-riderifhebeoneisleadingusintointoanambuscade?"

           "No,uncle;Idon’tsaythat.Ionlysaythatsuchthingshavebeendone;andit’spossiblehemay."

           "Butnotprobable,"emphaticallyinterposedthevoicefromthecarriole,inatonetauntinglyquizzical.

           "No!"exclaimedthestriplingHenry,who,althoughridingafewpacesahead,hadoverheardtheconversation."Yoursuspicionsareunjust,cousinCassius.Ipronouncethemacalumny.What’smore,Icanprovethemso.Lookthere!"

           Theyouthhadreineduphishorse,andwaspointingtoanobjectplacedconspicuouslybythesideofthepath;which,beforespeaking,hehadcloselyscrutinised.Itwasatallplantofthecolumnarcactus,whosegreensucculentstemhadescapedscathingbythefire.

           ItwasnottotheplantitselfthatHenryPoindexterdirectedtheattentionofhiscompanions;buttoasmallwhitedisc,oftheformofaparallelogram,impaledupononeofitsspines.Nooneaccustomedtotheusagesofcivilisedlifecouldmistakethe"card."Itwasone.

           "Hearwhat’swrittenuponit!"continuedtheyoungman,ridingnearer,andreadingaloudthedirectionspencilleduponthebitofpasteboard.

           "Thecypressinsight!"

           "Where?"inquiredPoindexter.

           "There’sahand,"rejoinedHenry,"withafingerpointingnodoubtinthedirectionofthetree."

           Alleyeswereinstantlyturnedtowardsthequarterofthecompass,indicatedbythecipheronthecard.

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