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- Джон Бакен
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- Запретный лес
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- Стр. 181/195
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The
hand
was
raised
,
and
the
other
cowered
to
his
saddle
-
bow
,
as
if
to
avert
a
stroke
.
But
the
hand
did
not
fall
.
Instead
it
gripped
his
arm
,
and
the
grip
seemed
to
crush
his
bones
.
"
You
fool
,
"
said
the
grave
voice
.
"
This
night
I
have
the
strength
of
ten
men
,
for
the
Lord
is
in
me
.
I
could
strike
you
dead
if
I
were
minded
,
but
the
command
is
on
me
that
we
ride
together
.
"
Chasehope
’
s
arrogance
had
drained
out
of
him
,
but
it
had
left
some
dregs
of
courage
.
He
struggled
to
compose
his
voice
and
recover
his
everyday
demeanour
.
"
Weel
,
since
ye
’
re
so
pressin
’
I
’
ll
do
your
will
.
There
’
s
no
half
a
mile
differ
in
the
roads
.
"
But
the
words
did
nothing
to
break
the
spell
which
choked
him
.
They
were
like
the
wry
-
mouthed
bravado
of
a
criminal
at
the
gallows
’
foot
.
No
word
was
spoken
as
they
crossed
the
haugh
and
skirted
the
Fennan
Moss
,
but
had
there
been
any
one
to
see
he
would
have
noted
that
David
rode
erect
like
a
trooper
,
while
Chasehope
hung
like
a
sack
in
his
saddle
,
and
that
David
’
s
knee
was
hard
pressed
against
the
other
’
s
,
as
if
the
two
were
shackled
.
They
came
to
the
edge
of
the
Wood
,
where
the
road
bent
to
the
right
among
the
pine
roots
towards
the
glen
of
Woodilee
burn
.
"
We
dismount
here
,
"
said
David
,
"
for
we
cannot
ride
among
the
trees
.
The
beasts
will
find
their
way
home
.
"
Chasehope
cried
out
,
and
his
voice
now
was
strangled
with
terror
.
"
The
Wud
!
No
the
Wud
!
Ye
daurna
gang
there
.
.
.
.
"
He
raised
his
arm
and
would
have
struck
,
but
David
caught
his
wrist
.
He
overbalanced
himself
and
rolled
to
the
ground
,
and
in
a
second
David
was
beside
him
.
The
horses
,
alarmed
by
the
scuffle
,
dashed
up
the
track
.
Fear
made
the
man
violent
.
He
flung
himself
on
David
,
but
for
all
his
weight
found
himself
tossed
down
like
a
feather
.
Was
this
stern
figure
with
the
sinews
of
iron
the
minister
whom
he
had
despised
?
