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- Альбер Камю
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- Стр. 138/187
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The
doctor
was
grasping
the
iron
bar
at
the
foot
of
the
bed
where
the
child
was
groaning
.
He
never
took
his
eyes
off
the
little
patient
,
who
stiffened
suddenly
and
,
once
more
clenching
his
teeth
,
arched
his
back
a
little
at
the
waist
,
slowly
extending
his
arms
and
legs
.
The
small
body
,
naked
under
the
army
blanket
,
gave
off
an
acrid
smell
of
sweat
and
wool
.
The
child
gradually
relaxed
,
brought
his
arms
and
legs
back
towards
the
centre
of
the
bed
and
,
still
blind
and
dumb
,
seemed
to
be
breathing
more
rapidly
.
Rieux
looked
towards
Tarrou
,
who
turned
away
.
They
had
already
seen
children
die
:
for
several
months
the
terror
had
not
discriminated
in
its
victims
;
but
never
before
had
they
followed
a
child
’
s
suffering
minute
by
minute
as
they
had
been
doing
here
since
early
morning
.
Of
course
,
the
pain
inflicted
on
these
innocents
had
never
ceased
to
appear
to
them
what
in
truth
it
was
,
an
outrage
.
But
until
then
they
had
been
outraged
abstractly
,
in
a
sense
,
because
they
had
never
looked
face
-
to
-
face
for
so
long
a
time
at
the
death
throes
of
an
innocent
child
.
At
that
moment
the
boy
,
as
though
bitten
in
the
stomach
,
doubled
up
again
with
a
high
-
pitched
moan
.
He
remained
bent
like
this
for
several
seconds
,
shaking
and
trembling
convulsively
,
as
though
his
frail
body
were
bowing
beneath
the
raging
wind
of
the
plague
and
cracking
under
the
repeated
blasts
of
fever
.
Once
the
gust
had
passed
,
he
relaxed
a
little
,
the
fever
seemed
to
move
away
,
abandoning
him
,
gasping
,
on
a
damp
and
polluted
shore
where
rest
already
seemed
like
death
.
When
the
burning
tide
struck
him
again
for
the
third
time
and
raised
him
up
a
little
,
the
child
,
bent
double
and
throwing
back
his
blanket
,
fled
to
the
end
of
the
bed
,
wildly
shaking
his
head
from
side
to
side
,
in
terror
of
the
flame
that
was
burning
him
.
Large
tears
rose
beneath
his
swollen
eyelids
and
began
to
flow
down
his
pallid
face
;
when
the
crisis
was
over
,
exhausted
,
tensing
his
bony
legs
and
his
arms
from
which
in
forty
-
eight
hours
the
flesh
had
dropped
away
,
the
child
assumed
the
grotesque
pose
of
a
crucified
man
in
the
ravaged
bed
.
Tarrou
leant
over
and
with
his
heavy
hand
wiped
the
small
face
bathed
in
tears
and
sweat
.
A
moment
earlier
,
Castel
had
closed
his
book
and
was
looking
at
the
patient
.
He
began
to
say
something
,
but
had
to
cough
in
order
to
finish
it
,
because
his
voice
suddenly
started
to
crack
.
"
There
was
no
morning
remission
,
was
there
,
Rieux
?
"
Rieux
said
no
,
but
that
the
child
was
holding
on
longer
than
normal
.
Paneloux
,
who
seemed
to
have
slumped
somewhat
against
the
wall
,
said
in
a
dull
voice
:
"
If
he
is
to
die
,
he
will
have
suffered
longer
.
"
Rieux
turned
brusquely
towards
him
and
opened
his
mouth
to
say
something
,
then
thought
better
of
it
and
looked
back
towards
the
child
,
making
a
visible
effort
to
control
himself
.
