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- Джон Джон Бакен
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Please
God
I
had
set
the
place
on
fire
,
for
I
could
hear
confused
cries
coming
from
the
other
side
.
But
I
had
no
time
to
linger
,
since
this
mill
was
obviously
a
bad
hiding-place
.
Anyone
looking
for
me
would
naturally
follow
the
lade
,
and
I
made
certain
the
search
would
begin
as
soon
as
they
found
that
my
body
was
not
in
the
storeroom
.
From
another
window
I
saw
that
on
the
far
side
of
the
mill
stood
an
old
stone
dovecot
.
If
I
could
get
there
without
leaving
tracks
I
might
find
a
hiding-place
,
for
I
argued
that
my
enemies
,
if
they
thought
I
could
move
,
would
conclude
I
had
made
for
open
country
,
and
would
go
seeking
me
on
the
moor
.
I
crawled
down
the
broken
ladder
,
scattering
chaff
behind
me
to
cover
my
footsteps
.
I
did
the
same
on
the
mill
floor
,
and
on
the
threshold
where
the
door
hung
on
broken
hinges
.
Peeping
out
,
I
saw
that
between
me
and
the
dovecot
was
a
piece
of
bare
cobbled
ground
,
where
no
footmarks
would
show
.
Also
it
was
mercifully
hid
by
the
mill
buildings
from
any
view
from
the
house
.
I
slipped
across
the
space
,
got
to
the
back
of
the
dovecot
and
prospected
a
way
of
ascent
.
That
was
one
of
the
hardest
jobs
I
ever
took
on
.
My
shoulder
and
arm
ached
like
hell
,
and
I
was
so
sick
and
giddy
that
I
was
always
on
the
verge
of
falling
.
But
I
managed
it
somehow
.
By
the
use
of
out-jutting
stones
and
gaps
in
the
masonry
and
a
tough
ivy
root
I
got
to
the
top
in
the
end
.
There
was
a
little
parapet
behind
which
I
found
space
to
lie
down
.
Then
I
proceeded
to
go
off
into
an
old-fashioned
swoon
.
I
woke
with
a
burning
head
and
the
sun
glaring
in
my
face
.
For
a
long
time
I
lay
motionless
,
for
those
horrible
fumes
seemed
to
have
loosened
my
joints
and
dulled
my
brain
.
Sounds
came
to
me
from
the
house
--
men
speaking
throatily
and
the
throbbing
of
a
stationary
car
.
There
was
a
little
gap
in
the
parapet
to
which
I
wriggled
,
and
from
which
I
had
some
sort
of
prospect
of
the
yard
.
I
saw
figures
come
out
--
a
servant
with
his
head
bound
up
,
and
then
a
younger
man
in
knickerbockers
.
They
were
looking
for
something
,
and
moved
towards
the
mill
.
Then
one
of
them
caught
sight
of
the
wisp
of
cloth
on
the
nail
,
and
cried
out
to
the
other
.
They
both
went
back
to
the
house
,
and
brought
two
more
to
look
at
it
.
I
saw
the
rotund
figure
of
my
late
captor
,
and
I
thought
I
made
out
the
man
with
the
lisp
.
I
noticed
that
all
had
pistols
.
For
half
an
hour
they
ransacked
the
mill
.
I
could
hear
them
kicking
over
the
barrels
and
pulling
up
the
rotten
planking
.
Then
they
came
outside
,
and
stood
just
below
the
dovecot
arguing
fiercely
.
The
servant
with
the
bandage
was
being
soundly
rated
.
I
heard
them
fiddling
with
the
door
of
the
dovecote
and
for
one
horrid
moment
I
fancied
they
were
coming
up
.
Then
they
thought
better
of
it
,
and
went
back
to
the
house
.
All
that
long
blistering
afternoon
I
lay
baking
on
the
rooftop
.
Thirst
was
my
chief
torment
.
My
tongue
was
like
a
stick
,
and
to
make
it
worse
I
could
hear
the
cool
drip
of
water
from
the
mill-lade
.
I
watched
the
course
of
the
little
stream
as
it
came
in
from
the
moor
,
and
my
fancy
followed
it
to
the
top
of
the
glen
,
where
it
must
issue
from
an
icy
fountain
fringed
with
cool
ferns
and
mosses
.
I
would
have
given
a
thousand
pounds
to
plunge
my
face
into
that
.
I
had
a
fine
prospect
of
the
whole
ring
of
moorland
.
I
saw
the
car
speed
away
with
two
occupants
,
and
a
man
on
a
hill
pony
riding
east
.
I
judged
they
were
looking
for
me
,
and
I
wished
them
joy
of
their
quest
.
