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- Стр. 442/662
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But
there
appears
no
chance
of
succour
--
no
time
for
it
.
There
is
no
mercy
in
the
stern
looks
of
the
Regulators
--
only
impatience
.
The
hangmen
,
too
,
appear
in
a
hurry
--
as
if
they
were
in
dread
of
another
interruption
.
They
manipulate
the
rope
with
the
ability
of
experienced
executioners
.
The
physiognomy
of
either
would
give
colour
to
the
assumption
,
that
they
had
been
accustomed
to
the
calling
.
In
less
than
sixty
seconds
they
shall
have
finished
the
"
job
.
"
"
Now
then
,
Bill
!
Are
ye
ready
?
"
shouts
one
to
the
other
--
by
the
question
proclaiming
,
that
they
no
longer
intend
to
wait
for
the
word
.
"
All
right
!
"
responds
Bill
.
"
Up
with
the
son
of
a
skunk
!
Up
with
him
!
"
There
is
a
pull
upon
the
rope
,
but
not
sufficient
to
raise
the
body
into
an
erect
position
.
It
tightens
around
the
neck
;
lifts
the
head
a
little
from
the
ground
,
but
nothing
more
!
Only
one
of
the
hangmen
has
given
his
strength
to
the
pull
.
"
Haul
,
damn
you
!
"
cries
Bill
,
astonished
at
the
inaction
of
his
assistant
.
"
Why
the
hell
do
n't
you
haul
?
"
Bill
's
back
is
turned
towards
an
intruder
,
that
,
seen
by
the
other
,
has
hindered
him
from
lending
a
hand
.
He
stands
as
if
suddenly
transformed
into
stone
!
"
Come
!
"
continues
the
chief
executioner
.
"
Let
's
go
at
it
again
--
both
together
.
Yee
--
up
!
Up
with
him
!
"
"
No
ye
do
n't
!
"
calls
out
a
voice
in
the
tones
of
a
stentor
;
while
a
man
of
colossal
frame
,
carrying
a
six-foot
rifle
,
is
seen
rushing
out
from
among
the
trees
,
in
strides
that
bring
him
almost
instantly
into
the
thick
of
the
crowd
.
