-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Артур Конан Дойл
-
- Отравленный пояс
-
- Стр. 53/67
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Sure
enough
,
at
the
hour
named
,
the
car
came
purring
and
crackling
from
the
yard
with
Lord
John
at
the
wheel
.
I
took
my
seat
beside
him
,
while
the
lady
,
a
useful
little
buffer
state
,
was
squeezed
in
between
the
two
men
of
wrath
at
the
back
.
Then
Lord
John
released
his
brakes
,
slid
his
lever
rapidly
from
first
to
third
,
and
we
sped
off
upon
the
strangest
drive
that
ever
human
beings
have
taken
since
man
first
came
upon
the
earth
.
You
are
to
picture
the
loveliness
of
nature
upon
that
August
day
,
the
freshness
of
the
morning
air
,
the
golden
glare
of
the
summer
sunshine
,
the
cloudless
sky
,
the
luxuriant
green
of
the
Sussex
woods
,
and
the
deep
purple
of
heather
-
clad
downs
.
As
you
looked
round
upon
the
many
-
coloured
beauty
of
the
scene
all
thought
of
a
vast
catastrophe
would
have
passed
from
your
mind
had
it
not
been
for
one
sinister
sign
—
the
solemn
,
all
-
embracing
silence
.
There
is
a
gentle
hum
of
life
which
pervades
a
closely
-
settled
country
,
so
deep
and
constant
that
one
ceases
to
observe
it
,
as
the
dweller
by
the
sea
loses
all
sense
of
the
constant
murmur
of
the
waves
.
The
twitter
of
birds
,
the
buzz
of
insects
,
the
far
-
off
echo
of
voices
,
the
lowing
of
cattle
,
the
distant
barking
of
dogs
,
roar
of
trains
,
and
rattle
of
carts
—
all
these
form
one
low
,
unremitting
note
,
striking
unheeded
upon
the
ear
.
We
missed
it
now
.
This
deadly
silence
was
appalling
.
So
solemn
was
it
,
so
impressive
,
that
the
buzz
and
rattle
of
our
motor
-
car
seemed
an
unwarrantable
intrusion
,
an
indecent
disregard
of
this
reverent
stillness
which
lay
like
a
pall
over
and
round
the
ruins
of
humanity
.
It
was
this
grim
hush
,
and
the
tall
clouds
of
smoke
which
rose
here
and
there
over
the
country
-
side
from
smoldering
buildings
,
which
cast
a
chill
into
our
hearts
as
we
gazed
round
at
the
glorious
panorama
of
the
Weald
.
And
then
there
were
the
dead
!
At
first
those
endless
groups
of
drawn
and
grinning
faces
filled
us
with
a
shuddering
horror
.
So
vivid
and
mordant
was
the
impression
that
I
can
live
over
again
that
slow
descent
of
the
station
hill
,
the
passing
by
the
nurse
-
girl
with
the
two
babes
,
the
sight
of
the
old
horse
on
his
knees
between
the
shafts
,
the
cabman
twisted
across
his
seat
,
and
the
young
man
inside
with
his
hand
upon
the
open
door
in
the
very
act
of
springing
out
.
Lower
down
were
six
reapers
all
in
a
litter
,
their
limbs
crossing
,
their
dead
,
unwinking
eyes
gazing
upwards
at
the
glare
of
heaven
.
These
things
I
see
as
in
a
photograph
.
But
soon
,
by
the
merciful
provision
of
nature
,
the
over
-
excited
nerve
ceased
to
respond
.
The
very
vastness
of
the
horror
took
away
from
its
personal
appeal
.
Individuals
merged
into
groups
,
groups
into
crowds
,
crowds
into
a
universal
phenomenon
which
one
soon
accepted
as
the
inevitable
detail
of
every
scene
.
Only
here
and
there
,
where
some
particularly
brutal
or
grotesque
incident
caught
the
attention
,
did
the
mind
come
back
with
a
sudden
shock
to
the
personal
and
human
meaning
of
it
all
.
Above
all
,
there
was
the
fate
of
the
children
.
That
,
I
remember
,
filled
us
with
the
strongest
sense
of
intolerable
injustice
.
We
could
have
wept
—
Mrs
.
Challenger
did
weep
—
when
we
passed
a
great
council
school
and
saw
the
long
trail
of
tiny
figures
scattered
down
the
road
which
led
from
it
.
They
had
been
dismissed
by
their
terrified
teachers
and
were
speeding
for
their
homes
when
the
poison
caught
them
in
its
net
.
Great
numbers
of
people
were
at
the
open
windows
of
the
houses
.
In
Tunbridge
Wells
there
was
hardly
one
which
had
not
its
staring
,
smiling
face
.
At
the
last
instant
the
need
of
air
,
that
very
craving
for
oxygen
which
we
alone
had
been
able
to
satisfy
,
had
sent
them
flying
to
the
window
.
The
sidewalks
too
were
littered
with
men
and
women
,
hatless
and
bonnetless
,
who
had
rushed
out
of
the
houses
.
Many
of
them
had
fallen
in
the
roadway
.
It
was
a
lucky
thing
that
in
Lord
John
we
had
found
an
expert
driver
,
for
it
was
no
easy
matter
to
pick
one
’
s
way
.
Passing
through
the
villages
or
towns
we
could
only
go
at
a
walking
pace
,
and
once
,
I
remember
,
opposite
the
school
at
Tonbridge
,
we
had
to
halt
some
time
while
we
carried
aside
the
bodies
which
blocked
our
path
.
A
few
small
,
definite
pictures
stand
out
in
my
memory
from
amid
that
long
panorama
of
death
upon
the
Sussex
and
Kentish
high
roads
.
One
was
that
of
a
great
,
glittering
motor
-
car
standing
outside
the
inn
at
the
village
of
Southborough
.
It
bore
,
as
I
should
guess
,
some
pleasure
party
upon
their
return
from
Brighton
or
from
Eastbourne
.
There
were
three
gaily
dressed
women
,
all
young
and
beautiful
,
one
of
them
with
a
Peking
spaniel
upon
her
lap
.
With
them
were
a
rakish
-
looking
elderly
man
and
a
young
aristocrat
,
his
eyeglass
still
in
his
eye
,
his
cigarette
burned
down
to
the
stub
between
the
fingers
of
his
begloved
hand
.
Death
must
have
come
on
them
in
an
instant
and
fixed
them
as
they
sat
.
Save
that
the
elderly
man
had
at
the
last
moment
torn
out
his
collar
in
an
effort
to
breathe
,
they
might
all
have
been
asleep
.
On
one
side
of
the
car
a
waiter
with
some
broken
glasses
beside
a
tray
was
huddled
near
the
step
.
On
the
other
,
two
very
ragged
tramps
,
a
man
and
a
woman
,
lay
where
they
had
fallen
,
the
man
with
his
long
,
thin
arm
still
outstretched
,
even
as
he
had
asked
for
alms
in
his
lifetime
.
One
instant
of
time
had
put
aristocrat
,
waiter
,
tramp
,
and
dog
upon
one
common
footing
of
inert
and
dissolving
protoplasm
.
I
remember
another
singular
picture
,
some
miles
on
the
London
side
of
Sevenoaks
.
There
is
a
large
convent
upon
the
left
,
with
a
long
,
green
slope
in
front
of
it
.
Upon
this
slope
were
assembled
a
great
number
of
school
children
,
all
kneeling
at
prayer
.
In
front
of
them
was
a
fringe
of
nuns
,
and
higher
up
the
slope
,
facing
towards
them
,
a
single
figure
whom
we
took
to
be
the
Mother
Superior
.
Unlike
the
pleasure
-
seekers
in
the
motor
-
car
,
these
people
seemed
to
have
had
warning
of
their
danger
and
to
have
died
beautifully
together
,
the
teachers
and
the
taught
,
assembled
for
their
last
common
lesson
.
My
mind
is
still
stunned
by
that
terrific
experience
,
and
I
grope
vainly
for
means
of
expression
by
which
I
can
reproduce
the
emotions
which
we
felt
.
Perhaps
it
is
best
and
wisest
not
to
try
,
but
merely
to
indicate
the
facts
.
