"Robin McKinley - Water" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinley Robin)

nodded and said something that must have been an answering good-bye. They kissed again, and the
sea-girl twisted like a leaping salmon and shot off down the inlet, turned in the water, rose, waved and
was gone.
As Pitiable dressed, she decided that now Probity would very likely kill her for what she had done,
take her home and beat her to death, half meaning to, and half not. And then, perhaps, he would kill
himself That would be best all round, she thought.
And then she thought that despite that, she had done what Mercy would have wanted her to. It was
why she had told her the story of Charity Goodrich, though neither of them could have known.
When she was dressed she shook her hair out and sat combing her fingers through it to help it dry in
the sun, but still he did not come, so she tied it up under her shawl and waited where he had left her. Her
mood of gladness and resignation ebbed, and she was wrapped in terror once again.
The men came at last, four of them, carrying nets and ropes, a stretcher, and a glass-bottomed box
of the sort that crab-catchers used to see below the surface of the water. From their dress Pitiable saw
that the three helpers were townspeople, as they would have to beтАФProbity would not even have tried
to persuade any of the People to come on such an enterprise. From the way they walked, it was obvious
that even these men were doubtful. A tall, thin lad in particular kept half laughing, as if he was convinced
that he was about to be made a fool of. But Probity came with a buoyant, excited pace and reached her
ahead of the others.
тАЬHas anyone been near?тАЭ he whispered.
тАЬNo one, grandfather.тАЭ
тАЬAnd have you heard anything?тАЭ
тАЬOnly the gulls and the sea.тАЭ
He stood and listened and frowned, but by now the helpers had come up, so he told them to wait
with Pitiable and make no noise, and himself climbed up onto the ridge and crept out of sight. After a
while he climbed down and fetched the glass-bottomed box, and this time he allowed the others to come
up with him, but Pitiable stayed where she was. She heard his voice, gruff and stubborn, and the others
answering him at first mockingly and then angrily, until he came down again and strode over to where she
sat, with the others following.
Pitiable rose and waited. She could see how the others glanced at one another behind ProbityтАЩs
back, and before he spoke, she knew how she must answer.
тАЬI tell you, the child saw it also,тАЭ he shouted. And then to Pitiable, тАЬWhere has it gone? How did it
get free?тАЭ
тАЬWhat do you speak of, grandfather?тАЭ
тАЬThe sea-child! Tell them you saw the sea-child!тАЭ
тАЬSea-child, grandfather?тАЭ
He took a pace forward and clouted her with all his strength on the side of her head. She sprawled
onto the shingle, screaming with the pain of it, but before she could rise, he rushed at her and struck her
again. She did not know what happened next, but then somebody was helping her to her feet and Probity
and the others were shouting furiouslyтАФwhile she shook her head and retched in a roaring red haze.
Then her vision cleared though her head still sang with pain, and she saw two of the men wrestling with
Probity, holding his arms behind him.
тАЬThe wicked slut let her go!тАЭ he bellowed. тАЬShe was mine! Mine! You have no right! This is my
grandchild! Mine!тАЭ
His face was terrible, dark red and purple, with the veins on his temples standing out like exposed
tree roots. Then he seemed to realize what he had done and fell quiet. In silence and in shame he let them
walk him back to the town, with the young man carrying Pitiable on his back.
Though there were magistrates in the town, there was so seldom any wrongdoing among the People
that it was the custom to let them deal with their own. After some debate the men took Probity to the
Minister and told him what they had seen, and he sent for three of the elders to decide what to do. They
heard the menтАЩs story, gave them the money Probity had promised them, thanked them and sent them