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

grandmother.
On a Sunday near Christmas (though the People did not keep Christmas, saying it was idolatrous)
there was a storm out of the west, driving snow like a million tiny whips, fiery with cold. Still, Probity put
on his leather coat and fetched out his staff and snowshoes, and told Pitiable to get ready so that he could
drag her to church on the log sled.
тАЬLet her stay,тАЭ said Mercy. тАЬI am dying, Probity. I may perhaps die while you are gone. May the
Lord deal with me as He will, but I am afraid to die alone.тАЭ
Probity stared at her with his face unchanging, then nodded and tied on his snowshoes and went out
into the storm without a word. Mercy watched the door close.
тАЬHe had love in him once,тАЭ she said. тАЬBut he buried it the day your mother left us and set the
tombstone on it the day she died. Bear with him, Pitiable. Deal with him as best you may. It will not be
easy.тАЭ
тАЬAre you really going to die?тАЭ said Pitiable.
тАЬAs we all are, when the Lord calls to us.тАЭ
тАЬTo-day? Now?тАЭ
тАЬNot to-day, I think. I am better to-day. The pain is almost gone, which is a bad sign. My body has
no more messages to send me.тАЭ
Pitiable knelt by MercyтАЩs cot and put her head on the quilt and wept, while Mercy stroked her
shoulders and told her she was glad to be going, because she trusted in God to forgive her the small
harms she had done in her life. She told Pitiable to fetch a stool and sit by her and hold her hand.
тАЬI have a story to tell you,тАЭ she said. тАЬMy mother told it to me, and her mother to her, through seven
generations since The Trust in God was lost. You remember the story of Charity Goodrich, our
ancestress, yours and mine?тАЭ
Pitiable nodded. Every child among the People, even those who were not directly descended from
her, knew about Charity Goodrich. It was almost the only story they knew, outside the ones in the Bible.
They were told that the stories other children knew were superstitious nonsense, inventions of the devil,
to distract believers from the narrow path to salvation. Two hundred years ago, three small ships had set
out to cross the great ocean. They had been given new names before they left, The Lord is Our Refuge,
The Deliver Us from Bondage and The Trust in God. Apart from their crews they carried the People,
287 men, women and children who had determined to leave the country where they were oppressed and
imprisoned and burnt for their beliefs, and settle in new land where they could worship as they chose.
After a dangerous voyage they were in sight of land when a storm separated them. Two ships came safe
into the providential bay which was now the harbour of the town, but the third, The Trust in God, was
driven against the cliffs to the north of it and lost with all hands. All hands but one, that is, for five days
later a child was found wandering on the shore, unable to say how she had come there. Her name was
Charity Goodrich.
тАЬI am going to tell you how Charity was saved,тАЭ said Mercy. тАЬBut first you must promise me two
things. You must remember it so that you can tell it to your daughters when they are old enough to
understand. And you must tell it to nobody else, ever. It is a secret. You will see why. Charity Goodrich
was my great-grandmotherтАЩs great-grandmother. There are other descendants of hers among the People,
but I have never asked, never even hinted, and nor must you. Do you understand?тАЭ
 тАЬYes, and I promise,тАЭ said Pitiable.
тАЬGood. Now this is the story Charity told. She remembered the storm, and the breaking of the mast,
and the shouts of the sailors, and the People gathering on the deck, standing all together and singing to
the Lord Who made the sea, while they clutched at ropes and spars and the ship heaved and wallowed
and waves swept foaming around their legs. Some of them were washed away, still singing, and then the
ship was laid on its side and the deck stood upright and they all went tumbling down into the roaring sea.
Charity remembered her hand being torn from her fatherтАЩs grasp, and then a loose sail tangled round her
and she remembered nothing more.
тАЬNothing more, that is, until she woke. A shuddering cold roused her and told her too that she was