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- Джеймс Купер
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- Стр. 92/257
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Aha
!
tu
en
as
entendu
parler
!
je
les
ai
fait
prisonnières
près
de
l'autre
fort
,
et
je
les
conduis
au
général
.
"
"
Ma
foi
!
mesdames
;
j'
en
suis
faché
pour
vous
,
"
exclaimed
the
young
soldier
,
touching
his
cap
with
grace
;
"
mais
--
fortune
de
guerre
!
vous
trouverez
notre
général
un
brave
homme
,
et
bien
poli
avec
les
dames
.
"
"
C'est
le
caractère
des
gens
de
guerre
,
"
said
Cora
,
with
admirable
self-possession
.
"
Adieu
,
mon
ami
;
je
vous
souhaiterais
un
devoir
plus
agréable
à
remplir
.
"
The
soldier
made
a
low
and
humble
acknowledgment
for
her
civility
;
and
Heyward
adding
a
"
Bonne
nuit
,
mon
camarade
,
"
they
moved
deliberately
forward
,
leaving
the
sentinel
pacing
the
banks
of
the
silent
pond
,
little
suspecting
an
enemy
of
so
much
effrontery
,
and
humming
to
himself
those
words
,
which
were
recalled
to
his
mind
by
the
sight
of
women
,
and
perhaps
by
recollections
of
his
own
distant
and
beautiful
France
--
"
Vive
le
vin
,
l'amour
,
"
etc.
,
etc.
.
"
'
Tis
well
you
understood
the
knave
!
"
whispered
the
scout
,
when
they
had
gained
a
little
distance
from
the
place
,
and
letting
his
rifle
fall
into
the
hollow
of
his
arm
again
;
"
I
soon
saw
that
he
was
one
of
them
uneasy
Frenchers
;
and
well
for
him
it
was
that
his
speech
was
friendly
and
his
wishes
kind
,
or
a
place
might
have
been
found
for
his
bones
among
those
of
his
countrymen
.
"
He
was
interrupted
by
a
long
and
heavy
groan
which
arose
from
the
little
basin
,
as
though
,
in
truth
,
the
spirits
of
the
departed
lingered
about
their
watery
sepulchre
.
"
Surely
it
was
of
flesh
!
"
continued
the
scout
;
"
no
spirit
could
handle
its
arms
so
steadily
!
"
"
It
was
of
flesh
;
but
whether
the
poor
fellow
still
belongs
to
this
world
may
well
be
doubted
,
"
said
Heyward
,
glancing
his
eyes
around
him
,
and
missing
Chingachgook
from
their
little
band
.
Another
groan
more
faint
than
the
former
,
was
succeeded
by
a
heavy
and
sullen
plunge
into
the
water
,
and
all
was
as
still
again
as
if
the
borders
of
the
dreary
pool
had
never
been
awakened
from
the
silence
of
creation
.
While
they
yet
hesitated
in
uncertainty
,
the
form
of
the
Indian
was
seen
gliding
out
of
the
thicket
.
As
the
chief
rejoined
them
,
with
one
hand
he
attached
the
reeking
scalp
of
the
unfortunate
young
Frenchman
to
his
girdle
,
and
with
the
other
he
replaced
the
knife
and
tomahawk
that
had
drunk
his
blood
.
He
then
took
his
wonted
station
,
with
the
air
of
a
man
who
believed
he
had
done
a
deed
of
merit
.
The
scout
dropped
one
end
of
his
rifle
to
the
earth
,
and
leaning
his
hands
on
the
other
,
he
stood
musing
in
profound
silence
.
Then
shaking
his
head
in
a
mournful
manner
,
he
muttered
--
