"Grey, Zane - The U.P. Trail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

magnified now by their fears. Horn strode to and fro with his rifle-
-a grim, dark, silent form. Whenever a wolf mourned, or a cat
squalled, or a night bird voiced the solitude, or a stone rattled
off the cliff, the fugitives started up quiveringly alert, expecting
every second to hear the screeching yell of the Sioux. They
whispered to keep up a flickering courage. And the burly Horn strode
to and fro, thoughtful, as though he were planning something, and
always listening. Allie sat in one of the wagons close to her
mother. She was wide awake and not so badly scared. All through this
dreadful journey her mother had not seemed natural to Allie, and the
farther they traveled eastward the stranger she grew. During the
ride that night she had moaned and shuddered, and had clasped Allie
close; but when the flight had come to a forced end she grew silent.

Allie was young and hopeful. She kept whispering to her mother that
the soldiers would come in time.

"That brave fellow in buckskin--he'll save us," said Allie.

"Child, I feel I'll never see home again," finally whispered Mrs.
Durade.

"Mother!"

"Allie, I must tell you--I must!" cried Mrs. Durade, very low and
fiercely. She clung to her daughter.

"Tell me what?" whispered Allie.

"The truth--the truth! Oh, I've deceived you all your life!"

"Deceived me! Oh, mother! Then tell me--now."

"Child--you'll forgive me--and never--hate me?" cried the mother,
brokenly.

"Mother, how can you talk so! I love you." And Allie clasped the
shaking form closer. Then followed a silence during which Mrs.
Durade recovered her composure.

"Allie, I ran off with Durade before you were born," began the
mother, swiftly, as if she must hurry out her secret. "Durade is not
your father.... Your name is Lee. Your father is Allison Lee. I've
heard he's a rich man now.... Oh, I want to get back--to give you to
him--to beg his forgiveness.... We were married in New Orleans in
1847. My father made me marry him. I never loved Allison Lee. He was
not a kind man--not the sort I admired.... I met Durade. He was a
Spaniard--a blue-blooded adventurer. I ran off with him. We joined
the gold-seekers traveling to California. You were born out there in
1850.... It has been a hard life. But I taught you--I did all I