Читать книгу The Carolinian онлайн
12 страница из 72
'Wha...wha...what's o'clock?' quoth the Colonel, confusedly.
'Close on five o'clock, massa.'
'Fi...five o'clock!' Moultrie awakened on that, and sat up. 'What the devil, Tom...?'
Tom brought the slip of paper more definitely to his master's notice. Puzzled, the Colonel took it, unfolded it, dusted his eyes with his knuckles, and read. Then he flung back the bedclothes, thrust out a hairy leg, his foot groping for the floor, and commanded Tom to give him a bedgown, draw the curtains, and bring up this visitor.
And so a few minutes later, Harry Latimer was ushered into the presence of the Colonel, who stood in the pale light of early day, in bedgown, slippers, and nightcap, to receive him.
'Odsbud, Harry! What's this? What's brought you back?'
They shook hands firmly, like old friends, whilst the gimlet eyes of Moultrie observed the young man's dusty boots and travel-stained riding-clothes as well as the haggard lines in his face.
'When you've heard, you may say I've come back to be hanged. But it's a slight risk at present, and it had to be taken.'