-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Томас Рид
-
- Всадник без головы
-
- Стр. 5/662
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
cousin
,
an
ex-officer
of
volunteers
,
affects
a
military
undress
of
dark
blue
cloth
,
with
a
forage
cap
to
correspond
.
There
is
another
horseman
riding
near
,
who
,
only
on
account
of
having
a
white
skin
--
not
white
for
all
that
--
is
entitled
to
description
.
His
coarser
features
,
and
cheaper
habiliments
;
the
keel-coloured
"
cowhide
"
clutched
in
his
right
hand
,
and
flirted
with
such
evident
skill
,
proclaim
him
the
overseer
--
and
whipper
up
--
of
the
swarthy
pedestrians
composing
the
entourage
of
the
train
.
The
travelling
carriage
,
which
is
a
"
carriole
"
--
a
sort
of
cross
between
a
Jersey
waggon
and
a
barouche
--
has
two
occupants
.
One
is
a
young
lady
of
the
whitest
skin
;
the
other
a
girl
of
the
blackest
.
The
former
is
the
daughter
of
Woodley
Poindexter
--
his
only
daughter
.
She
of
the
sable
complexion
is
the
young
lady
's
handmaid
.
The
emigrating
party
is
from
the
"
coast
"
of
the
Mississippi
--
from
Louisiana
.
The
planter
is
not
himself
a
native
of
this
State
--
in
other
words
a
Creole
;
but
the
type
is
exhibited
in
the
countenance
of
his
son
--
still
more
in
that
fair
face
,
seen
occasionally
through
the
curtains
of
the
carriole
,
and
whose
delicate
features
declare
descent
from
one
of
those
endorsed
damsels
--
filles
à
la
casette
--
who
,
more
than
a
hundred
years
ago
,
came
across
the
Atlantic
provided
with
proofs
of
their
virtue
--
in
the
casket
!
A
grand
sugar
planter
of
the
South
is
Woodley
Poindexter
;
one
of
the
highest
and
haughtiest
of
his
class
;
one
of
the
most
profuse
in
aristocratic
hospitalities
:
hence
the
necessity
of
forsaking
his
Mississippian
home
,
and
transferring
himself
and
his
"
penates
,
"
--
with
only
a
remnant
of
his
"
niggers
,
"
--
to
the
wilds
of
south-western
Texas
.
The
sun
is
upon
the
meridian
line
,
and
almost
in
the
zenith
.
The
travellers
tread
upon
their
own
shadows
.
Enervated
by
the
excessive
heat
,
the
white
horsemen
sit
silently
in
their
saddles
.
Even
the
dusky
pedestrians
,
less
sensible
to
its
influence
,
have
ceased
their
garrulous
"
gumbo
;
"
and
,
in
straggling
groups
,
shamble
listlessly
along
in
the
rear
of
the
waggons
.
The
silence
--
solemn
as
that
of
a
funereal
procession
--
is
interrupted
only
at
intervals
by
the
pistol-like
crack
of
a
whip
,
or
the
loud
"
wo-ha
,
"
delivered
in
deep
baritone
from
the
thick
lips
of
some
sable
teamster
.
Slowly
the
train
moves
on
,
as
if
groping
its
way
.
There
is
no
regular
road
.
The
route
is
indicated
by
the
wheel-marks
of
some
vehicles
that
have
passed
before
--
barely
conspicuous
,
by
having
crushed
the
culms
of
the
shot
grass
.
Notwithstanding
the
slow
progress
,
the
teams
are
doing
their
best
.
The
planter
believes
himself
within
less
than
twenty
miles
of
the
end
of
his
journey
.
He
hopes
to
reach
it
before
night
:
hence
the
march
continued
through
the
mid-day
heat
.
Unexpectedly
the
drivers
are
directed
to
pull
up
,
by
a
sign
from
the
overseer
;
who
has
been
riding
a
hundred
yards
in
the
advance
,
and
who
is
seen
to
make
a
sudden
stop
--
as
if
some
obstruction
had
presented
itself
.