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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 338/416
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The
bodies
of
Delaney
and
Christian
had
already
been
carried
to
Guadalajara
and
thence
taken
by
train
to
Bonneville
.
Hilma
followed
the
farm
wagon
in
the
Derricks
’
carry
-
all
,
with
Magnus
and
his
wife
.
During
all
that
ride
none
of
them
spoke
a
word
.
It
had
been
arranged
that
,
since
Quien
Sabe
was
in
the
hands
of
the
Railroad
,
Hilma
should
come
to
Los
Muertos
.
To
that
place
also
Annixter
’
s
body
was
carried
.
Later
on
in
the
day
,
when
it
was
almost
evening
,
the
undertaker
’
s
black
wagon
passed
the
Derricks
’
Home
ranch
on
its
way
from
Hooven
’
s
and
turned
into
the
county
road
towards
Bonneville
.
The
initial
excitement
of
the
affair
of
the
irrigating
ditch
had
died
down
;
the
crowd
long
since
had
dispersed
.
By
the
time
the
wagon
passed
Caraher
’
s
saloon
,
the
sun
had
set
.
Night
was
coming
on
.
And
the
black
wagon
went
on
through
the
darkness
,
unattended
,
ignored
,
solitary
,
carrying
the
dead
body
of
Dabney
,
the
silent
old
man
of
whom
nothing
was
known
but
his
name
,
who
made
no
friends
,
whom
nobody
knew
or
spoke
to
,
who
had
come
from
no
one
knew
whence
and
who
went
no
one
knew
whither
.
Towards
midnight
of
that
same
day
,
Mrs
.
Dyke
was
awakened
by
the
sounds
of
groaning
in
the
room
next
to
hers
.
Magnus
Derrick
was
not
so
occupied
by
Harran
’
s
death
that
he
could
not
think
of
others
who
were
in
distress
,
and
when
he
had
heard
that
Mrs
.
Dyke
and
Sidney
,
like
Hilma
,
had
been
turned
out
of
Quien
Sabe
,
he
had
thrown
open
Los
Muertos
to
them
.
“
Though
,
”
he
warned
them
,
“
it
is
precarious
hospitality
at
the
best
.
”
Until
late
,
Mrs
.
Dyke
had
sat
up
with
Hilma
,
comforting
her
as
best
she
could
,
rocking
her
to
and
fro
in
her
arms
,
crying
with
her
,
trying
to
quiet
her
,
for
once
having
given
way
to
her
grief
,
Hilma
wept
with
a
terrible
anguish
and
a
violence
that
racked
her
from
head
to
foot
,
and
at
last
,
worn
out
,
a
little
child
again
,
had
sobbed
herself
to
sleep
in
the
older
woman
’
s
arms
,
and
as
a
little
child
,
Mrs
.
Dyke
had
put
her
to
bed
and
had
retired
herself
.
Aroused
a
few
hours
later
by
the
sounds
of
a
distress
that
was
physical
,
as
well
as
mental
,
Mrs
.
Dyke
hurried
into
Hilma
’
s
room
,
carrying
the
lamp
with
her
.
Mrs
.
Dyke
needed
no
enlightenment
.
She
woke
Presley
and
besought
him
to
telephone
to
Bonneville
at
once
,
summoning
a
doctor
.
That
night
Hilma
in
great
pain
suffered
a
miscarriage
.
Presley
did
not
close
his
eyes
once
during
the
night
;
he
did
not
even
remove
his
clothes
.
Long
after
the
doctor
had
departed
and
that
house
of
tragedy
had
quieted
down
,
he
still
remained
in
his
place
by
the
open
window
of
his
little
room
,
looking
off
across
the
leagues
of
growing
wheat
,
watching
the
slow
kindling
of
the
dawn
.
Horror
weighed
intolerably
upon
him
.
Monstrous
things
,
huge
,
terrible
,
whose
names
he
knew
only
too
well
,
whirled
at
a
gallop
through
his
imagination
,
or
rose
spectral
and
grisly
before
the
eyes
of
his
mind
.
Harran
dead
,
Annixter
dead
,
Broderson
dead
,
Osterman
,
perhaps
,
even
at
that
moment
dying
.
Why
,
these
men
had
made
up
his
world
.
Annixter
had
been
his
best
friend
,
Harran
,
his
almost
daily
companion
;
Broderson
and
Osterman
were
familiar
to
him
as
brothers
.
