-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Жюль Верн
-
- Дети капитана Гранта
-
- Стр. 325/501
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Means
of
conveyance
were
quickly
procured
here
.
Hope
returned
to
Glenarvan
as
they
approached
the
coast
.
Perhaps
there
might
have
been
some
slight
delay
,
and
after
all
they
might
get
there
before
the
arrival
of
the
Duncan
.
In
twenty-four
hours
they
would
reach
the
bay
.
At
noon
,
after
a
comfortable
meal
,
all
the
travelers
installed
in
a
mail-coach
,
drawn
by
five
strong
horses
,
left
Delegete
at
a
gallop
.
The
postilions
,
stimulated
by
a
promise
of
a
princely
DOUCEUR
,
drove
rapidly
along
over
a
well-kept
road
.
They
did
not
lose
a
minute
in
changing
horses
,
which
took
place
every
ten
miles
.
It
seemed
as
if
they
were
infected
with
Glenarvan
's
zeal
.
All
that
day
,
and
night
,
too
,
they
traveled
on
at
the
rate
of
six
miles
an
hour
.
In
the
morning
at
sunrise
,
a
dull
murmur
fell
on
their
ears
,
and
announced
their
approach
to
the
Indian
Ocean
.
They
required
to
go
round
the
bay
to
gain
the
coast
at
the
37th
parallel
,
the
exact
point
where
Tom
Austin
was
to
wait
their
arrival
.
When
the
sea
appeared
,
all
eyes
anxiously
gazed
at
the
offing
.
Was
the
Duncan
,
by
a
miracle
of
Providence
,
there
running
close
to
the
shore
,
as
a
month
ago
,
when
they
crossed
Cape
Corrientes
,
they
had
found
her
on
the
Argentine
coast
?
They
saw
nothing
.
Sky
and
earth
mingled
in
the
same
horizon
.
Not
a
sail
enlivened
the
vast
stretch
of
ocean
.
One
hope
still
remained
.
Perhaps
Tom
Austin
had
thought
it
his
duty
to
cast
anchor
in
Twofold
Bay
,
for
the
sea
was
heavy
,
and
a
ship
would
not
dare
to
venture
near
the
shore
.
"
To
Eden
!
"
cried
Glenarvan
.
Immediately
the
mail-coach
resumed
the
route
round
the
bay
,
toward
the
little
town
of
Eden
,
five
miles
distant
.
The
postilions
stopped
not
far
from
the
lighthouse
,
which
marks
the
entrance
of
the
port
.
Several
vessels
were
moored
in
the
roadstead
,
but
none
of
them
bore
the
flag
of
Malcolm
Glenarvan
,
John
Mangles
,
and
Paganel
got
out
of
the
coach
,
and
rushed
to
the
custom-house
,
to
inquire
about
the
arrival
of
vessels
within
the
last
few
days
.
No
ship
had
touched
the
bay
for
a
week
.
"
Perhaps
the
yacht
has
not
started
,
"
Glenarvan
said
,
a
sudden
revulsion
of
feeling
lifting
him
from
despair
.
"
Perhaps
we
have
arrived
first
.
"
John
Mangles
shook
his
head
.
He
knew
Tom
Austin
.
His
first
mate
would
not
delay
the
execution
of
an
order
for
ten
days
.
"
I
must
know
at
all
events
how
they
stand
,
"
said
Glenarvan
.
"
Better
certainty
than
doubt
.
"
