Читать книгу Walda. A Novel онлайн

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The bell rang again. Into the little square before the inn came a man different from the others. He was tall and spare of figure. His oddly cut clothing fitted his body with snugness. A broad-brimmed, gray felt hat shaded a sensitive face marked with strong lines. Long hair, which fell over the wide collar of his coat, gave him the look of one who belonged to a past generation. Not old, and yet not young, this man of Zanah had an unusual beauty of countenance that bespoke patience and gentleness. At his heels trooped a dozen boys who quickly surrounded the well. Standing on moss-covered stones, they took turns dipping water from a gourd fastened to the curb.

The man of Zanah stood with his face turned in the direction whence he had come. Suddenly he doffed the gray felt hat and waited with uncovered head while three women approached the well. Two were like the many who had gone by within the quarter-hour. The third was young, and her beauty was of such rare quality that the stranger stepped out to the edge of the porch that he might better see her features. She was of more than medium height, and she walked with a majestic bearing. Her face, uplifted to the sky, was lighted by the sunset glow. Over her fair hair, which fell in two long braids below her waist, she wore a cap of white lawn, and the kerchief crossed upon her bosom was white. She appeared to be unconscious of the presence of the man of Zanah until her gown touched him. She turned her head and smiled with such sweetness and such friendliness that the stranger, watching her, felt a pang of envy. The man bent his head reverently, and the children stopped their play to make obeisance to her. When she had passed, the man of Zanah stood motionless for a moment. He was suddenly startled from his reverie by the simple one, who ran from the inn and grasped his hand.