Читать книгу The Ark of 1803. A Story of Louisiana Purchase Times онлайн

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Several women had gathered at the Royce’s from the neighboring cabins. They were all brave women, used to the alarms and hardships of their wild life, and they received the little party, that looked so much grimmer than it was, without excitement.

“It looks to me kinder like a fight,” said Charlie, when he had examined the master’s bruises carefully in the light of a tallow dip.

“It must have been a fight,” said Mrs. Royce. “That is never a blow from a flying timber. His eye is puffing up, too. He couldn’t have been lying long when you found him.”

The master roused a little. His arm went out as if to ward a blow. “They’ll drive—me—out,” he muttered. “How—tish y’se’f—cherished ’n my bosom—’n ye turn—’gainsht me.” His arm fell and he began to weep; a pitiable object.

Jimmy had taken no part in his resuscitation. He stood looking into the fire, beside the hearth. Now that he no longer feared that the schoolmaster would die, he was absorbed in his own sullen thoughts. Milly Ayer saw his look, and his clenched hands, and went over to him.