-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Роберт Льюис Стивенсон
-
- Похищенный
-
- Стр. 157/166
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Accordingly
these
two
went
on
ahead
in
very
close
talk
,
and
Torrance
and
I
brought
up
the
rear
.
Night
was
quite
come
when
we
came
in
view
of
the
house
of
Shaws
.
Ten
had
been
gone
some
time
;
it
was
dark
and
mild
,
with
a
pleasant
,
rustling
wind
in
the
south-west
that
covered
the
sound
of
our
approach
;
and
as
we
drew
near
we
saw
no
glimmer
of
light
in
any
portion
of
the
building
.
It
seemed
my
uncle
was
already
in
bed
,
which
was
indeed
the
best
thing
for
our
arrangements
.
We
made
our
last
whispered
consultations
some
fifty
yards
away
;
and
then
the
lawyer
and
Torrance
and
I
crept
quietly
up
and
crouched
down
beside
the
corner
of
the
house
;
and
as
soon
as
we
were
in
our
places
,
Alan
strode
to
the
door
without
concealment
and
began
to
knock
.
For
some
time
Alan
volleyed
upon
the
door
,
and
his
knocking
only
roused
the
echoes
of
the
house
and
neighbourhood
.
At
last
,
however
,
I
could
hear
the
noise
of
a
window
gently
thrust
up
,
and
knew
that
my
uncle
had
come
to
his
observatory
.
By
what
light
there
was
,
he
would
see
Alan
standing
,
like
a
dark
shadow
,
on
the
steps
;
the
three
witnesses
were
hidden
quite
out
of
his
view
;
so
that
there
was
nothing
to
alarm
an
honest
man
in
his
own
house
.
For
all
that
,
he
studied
his
visitor
awhile
in
silence
,
and
when
he
spoke
his
voice
had
a
quaver
of
misgiving
.
"
What
's
this
?
"
says
he
.
"
This
is
nae
kind
of
time
of
night
for
decent
folk
;
and
I
hae
nae
trokings
wi
'
night-hawks
.
What
brings
ye
here
?
I
have
a
blunderbush
.
"
"
Is
that
yoursel
'
,
Mr.
Balfour
?
"
returned
Alan
,
stepping
back
and
looking
up
into
the
darkness
.
"
Have
a
care
of
that
blunderbuss
;
they
're
nasty
things
to
burst
.
"
"
What
brings
ye
here
?
and
whae
are
ye
?
"
says
my
uncle
,
angrily
.
"
I
have
no
manner
of
inclination
to
rowt
out
my
name
to
the
country-side
,
"
said
Alan
;
"
but
what
brings
me
here
is
another
story
,
being
more
of
your
affair
than
mine
;
and
if
ye
're
sure
it
's
what
ye
would
like
,
I
'll
set
it
to
a
tune
and
sing
it
to
you
.
"
"
And
what
is
'
t
?
"
asked
my
uncle
.
"
David
,
"
says
Alan
.
"
What
was
that
?
"
cried
my
uncle
,
in
a
mighty
changed
voice
.
