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- Возвращение на родину
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- Стр. 51/387
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The
light
raised
by
her
breath
had
been
very
fitful
,
and
a
momentary
irradiation
of
flesh
was
all
that
it
had
disclosed
of
her
face
.
That
consisted
of
two
matchless
lips
and
a
cheek
only
,
her
head
being
still
enveloped
.
She
threw
away
the
stick
,
took
the
glass
in
her
hand
,
the
telescope
under
her
arm
,
and
moved
on
.
Along
the
ridge
ran
a
faint
foot
-
track
,
which
the
lady
followed
.
Those
who
knew
it
well
called
it
a
path
;
and
,
while
a
mere
visitor
would
have
passed
it
unnoticed
even
by
day
,
the
regular
haunters
of
the
heath
were
at
no
loss
for
it
at
midnight
.
The
whole
secret
of
following
these
incipient
paths
,
when
there
was
not
light
enough
in
the
atmosphere
to
show
a
turnpike
road
,
lay
in
the
development
of
the
sense
of
touch
in
the
feet
,
which
comes
with
years
of
night
-
rambling
in
little
-
trodden
spots
.
To
a
walker
practised
in
such
places
a
difference
between
impact
on
maiden
herbage
,
and
on
the
crippled
stalks
of
a
slight
footway
,
is
perceptible
through
the
thickest
boot
or
shoe
.
The
solitary
figure
who
walked
this
beat
took
no
notice
of
the
windy
tune
still
played
on
the
dead
heathbells
.
She
did
not
turn
her
head
to
look
at
a
group
of
dark
creatures
further
on
,
who
fled
from
her
presence
as
she
skirted
a
ravine
where
they
fed
.
They
were
about
a
score
of
the
small
wild
ponies
known
as
heath
-
croppers
.
They
roamed
at
large
on
the
undulations
of
Egdon
,
but
in
numbers
too
few
to
detract
much
from
the
solitude
.
The
pedestrian
noticed
nothing
just
now
,
and
a
clue
to
her
abstraction
was
afforded
by
a
trivial
incident
.
A
bramble
caught
hold
of
her
skirt
,
and
checked
her
progress
.
Instead
of
putting
it
off
and
hastening
along
,
she
yielded
herself
up
to
the
pull
,
and
stood
passively
still
.
When
she
began
to
extricate
herself
it
was
by
turning
round
and
round
,
and
so
unwinding
the
prickly
switch
.
She
was
in
a
desponding
reverie
.
Her
course
was
in
the
direction
of
the
small
undying
fire
which
had
drawn
the
attention
of
the
men
on
Rainbarrow
and
of
Wildeve
in
the
valley
below
.
A
faint
illumination
from
its
rays
began
to
glow
upon
her
face
,
and
the
fire
soon
revealed
itself
to
be
lit
,
not
on
the
level
ground
,
but
on
a
salient
corner
or
redan
of
earth
,
at
the
junction
of
two
converging
bank
fences
.
Outside
was
a
ditch
,
dry
except
immediately
under
the
fire
,
where
there
was
a
large
pool
,
bearded
all
round
by
heather
and
rushes
.
In
the
smooth
water
of
the
pool
the
fire
appeared
upside
down
.
The
banks
meeting
behind
were
bare
of
a
hedge
,
save
such
as
was
formed
by
disconnected
tufts
of
furze
,
standing
upon
stems
along
the
top
,
like
impaled
heads
above
a
city
wall
.
A
white
mast
,
fitted
up
with
spars
and
other
nautical
tackle
,
could
be
seen
rising
against
the
dark
clouds
whenever
the
flames
played
brightly
enough
to
reach
it
.
Altogether
the
scene
had
much
the
appearance
of
a
fortification
upon
which
had
been
kindled
a
beacon
fire
.
Nobody
was
visible
;
but
ever
and
anon
a
whitish
something
moved
above
the
bank
from
behind
,
and
vanished
again
.
This
was
a
small
human
hand
,
in
the
act
of
lifting
pieces
of
fuel
into
the
fire
,
but
for
all
that
could
be
seen
the
hand
,
like
that
which
troubled
Belshazzar
,
was
there
alone
.
Occasionally
an
ember
rolled
off
the
bank
,
and
dropped
with
a
hiss
into
the
pool
.
At
one
side
of
the
pool
rough
steps
built
of
clods
enabled
everyone
who
wished
to
do
so
to
mount
the
bank
;
which
the
woman
did
.
Within
was
a
paddock
in
an
uncultivated
state
,
though
bearing
evidence
of
having
once
been
tilled
;
but
the
heath
and
fern
had
insidiously
crept
in
,
and
were
reasserting
their
old
supremacy
.
