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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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The Girl Philippa
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The troopers rode slowly, carbines poised forward with butt on thigh.
Fantassins along the road looked on, somber-eyed; the murmured word "spy" passed from lip to lip; the wounded turned their big, hollow eyes on him; drivers, cyclists, cannoniers, looked upon him; but nobody reviled him. Their silence was more terrible.
He spoke only once, looking up at the horseman beside him, his deep, harsh voice breaking the rigid silence:
"Hé! Vous là-haut! Supposition that I confess? … That I make a statement involving others… That Cossack there at headquarters! Do I benefit?"
The cavalryman did not even glance at him.
"Tas de casse-geules!" rumbled Wildresse, and spat into the dust.
They crossed the pontoon, the troopers dismounting and leading their horses, then into the saddle again, across the river meadows, and so around to the lodge gates.
Across the road they were opening trenches for dead horses, and on the plateau hundreds of soldiers' graves were being dug.
Wildresse glanced at them askance, and his bull neck roughened with shivers as he thought of the quick-lime.
It was then that the first convulsive twitch jerked his face and left the right eye turned slightly outward in a sort of cast. After that something seemed to loosen in his cheek, and his jaw was inclined to sag unless controlled with conscious effort.
Fantassins on guard passed forward prisoner and escort with monotonous formulae; the sentry on the terrace summoned assistance; a staff officer came; two line soldiers arrived later, halted, fixed bayonets, and loaded their pieces.
Half a dozen staff officers in the music room rose and stepped aside, opening a lane to the table where General of Division Raoul Delisle sat at the telephone. A cool-eyed major of dragoons relieved him of the apparatus; the General turned and looked up at Wildresse.
"You are Constantine Wildresse?"
"Yes, General."
"Otherwise Constantine Volmark?"
"Well – yes! My name is Volmark."
"Which name do you claim?" asked Delisle dryly.
"Volmark. It is useless to deny it – no good to deceive anybody."
"You are Austrian?"
"And Greek, on my mother's side."
"Greek?"
"That is – she was Eurasian."
"From – Tenedos?"
But Wildresse had suddenly caught sight of Count Cassilis.
"You!" he cried. "Now, then, will you do anything for me?"
Cassilis stared.
"Will you?" demanded Wildresse loudly.
Cassilis glanced at Delisle and tapped his forehead with a bored air.
"Oh!" shouted Wildresse. "So that's it, eh? I am crazy, am I?"
He passed a thick, dry tongue over his lips, made an effort; looked hard at Delisle:
"Yes, mon Général; I am Constantine Volmark, born in Tenedos. What then, if you please?"
"You are known. No court is necessary. You will be shot immediately."
"Circumstances – in extenuation – "
"None!"
"And if I confess – "
"It is useless."
"A statement involving others, unsuspected – "
"What?"
"It is important. Nations are involved," muttered Wildresse. "An officer in your entourage – eh? Is there any immunity in such things, General?"
"No."
"No – immunity?"
"No."
"I am not permitted to make a statement?"
"I am here to listen. I always have time to listen."
"Then I may speak freely?"
"Yes, you may make a statement if you choose."
"Accusations?"
"If you choose."
"It will not help my case if I prove to you of what filth chancelleries are made? If I expose to you what the faith of governments amounts to? – If I show you a man who has betrayed everybody since his boyhood – an officer here – your comrade and friend? All this will not help my case?"
"No."
Fantassins along the road looked on, somber-eyed; the murmured word "spy" passed from lip to lip; the wounded turned their big, hollow eyes on him; drivers, cyclists, cannoniers, looked upon him; but nobody reviled him. Their silence was more terrible.
He spoke only once, looking up at the horseman beside him, his deep, harsh voice breaking the rigid silence:
"Hé! Vous là-haut! Supposition that I confess? … That I make a statement involving others… That Cossack there at headquarters! Do I benefit?"
The cavalryman did not even glance at him.
"Tas de casse-geules!" rumbled Wildresse, and spat into the dust.
They crossed the pontoon, the troopers dismounting and leading their horses, then into the saddle again, across the river meadows, and so around to the lodge gates.
Across the road they were opening trenches for dead horses, and on the plateau hundreds of soldiers' graves were being dug.
Wildresse glanced at them askance, and his bull neck roughened with shivers as he thought of the quick-lime.
It was then that the first convulsive twitch jerked his face and left the right eye turned slightly outward in a sort of cast. After that something seemed to loosen in his cheek, and his jaw was inclined to sag unless controlled with conscious effort.
Fantassins on guard passed forward prisoner and escort with monotonous formulae; the sentry on the terrace summoned assistance; a staff officer came; two line soldiers arrived later, halted, fixed bayonets, and loaded their pieces.
Half a dozen staff officers in the music room rose and stepped aside, opening a lane to the table where General of Division Raoul Delisle sat at the telephone. A cool-eyed major of dragoons relieved him of the apparatus; the General turned and looked up at Wildresse.
"You are Constantine Wildresse?"
"Yes, General."
"Otherwise Constantine Volmark?"
"Well – yes! My name is Volmark."
"Which name do you claim?" asked Delisle dryly.
"Volmark. It is useless to deny it – no good to deceive anybody."
"You are Austrian?"
"And Greek, on my mother's side."
"Greek?"
"That is – she was Eurasian."
"From – Tenedos?"
But Wildresse had suddenly caught sight of Count Cassilis.
"You!" he cried. "Now, then, will you do anything for me?"
Cassilis stared.
"Will you?" demanded Wildresse loudly.
Cassilis glanced at Delisle and tapped his forehead with a bored air.
"Oh!" shouted Wildresse. "So that's it, eh? I am crazy, am I?"
He passed a thick, dry tongue over his lips, made an effort; looked hard at Delisle:
"Yes, mon Général; I am Constantine Volmark, born in Tenedos. What then, if you please?"
"You are known. No court is necessary. You will be shot immediately."
"Circumstances – in extenuation – "
"None!"
"And if I confess – "
"It is useless."
"A statement involving others, unsuspected – "
"What?"
"It is important. Nations are involved," muttered Wildresse. "An officer in your entourage – eh? Is there any immunity in such things, General?"
"No."
"No – immunity?"
"No."
"I am not permitted to make a statement?"
"I am here to listen. I always have time to listen."
"Then I may speak freely?"
"Yes, you may make a statement if you choose."
"Accusations?"
"If you choose."
"It will not help my case if I prove to you of what filth chancelleries are made? If I expose to you what the faith of governments amounts to? – If I show you a man who has betrayed everybody since his boyhood – an officer here – your comrade and friend? All this will not help my case?"
"No."
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Последний отзыв
Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
Далее