"Sean McMullen - Rule of the People" - читать интересную книгу автора (McMullen Sean)

"If we caught Jack O'Lantern we'd be famous."
"If we caught Jack O'Lantern we might be dead. Come away, Marty, let's to the Stooker's Arms for a
pint."
"Ach, be buggered if yer not right, Mus," the other conceded. "No fire, no lantern, nowt te show a
constable."
Diactoros slowly withdrew is head as the men left and sat in the shadow of a chimney, contemplating
what he had just seen.
"The mighty Shapemaster, reduced to this," he said to the stars of Orion that sparkled in the summer
sky. "The res publica, Shapemaster, it's rotting you like a mortal's disease."
***


Most of the promenaders on the beach had arrived by the Sandridge Railway, which had been running
extra trains that afternoon. Although there was a deliciously cool sea breeze after the heat of the summers
day and there was a bright and beautiful comet in the sky to the northwest, most of the citizens of
Melbourne were there to gaze upon something far more novel than a silvery streamer in the sky. It was
the evening of January 26, 1865, and the Confederate raider Shenandoah was riding at anchor not far
from the pier. A small flotilla of boats was gathered about the warship, all crowded with townsfolk from
Melbourne.
The rider who came through the grass-topped sand dunes behind the littoral frowned to see the
hundreds of onlookers crowding the beach. He was dressed in moleskin trousers, coat and cloth cap,
and had several weeks of beard on his face. He reined in for a full minute, surveying the beach as if
assessing it. Finally he made up his mind.
"Giya, Vikki," he said as he nudged his mount into motion again. "We'll have to go into the water this
time."
The brown mare splashed into the shallows, then waded slowly out until the water came up to her
belly. Several people on the shore pointed, perhaps wondering if the rider was intending to swim his
horse as far as the Confederate warship. The water was over his boots when he reined in.
Almost at once something sleek and solid surfaced and brushed past the horse, then doubled back and
glided beneath at her belly.
"We have a big audience tonight Jamie," said the rider in a soft baritone, leaning over in the saddle,
"although they've really come to see that warship."
The seal gave a cough-like bark and made a splash with one flipper.
"Yes, It's a lot of fuss over very little," the rider agreed.
Reaching into the saddlebags he unbundled a package and began to feed dark, reeking lumps to the
seal.
"All I have today is human hair from the barber shops mixed with mutton fat, fish oil and some of my
own blood. My supplier at the undertakers has been taken ill, so the usual portions are not to be had."
He neatly folded the greasy pages of The Argus and put them back into the saddlebag. The seal
yelped twice.
"Yes I know it's unpleasant, but it's enough to keep a human soul within a seal's body. I might be
holding you by a thin thread, Jamie, but I've not let go for twenty two years."
On the shore there was a knot of people gathering who were showing distinct interest in the rider who
was speaking with a seal.
"Time to go. In a fortnight I'll be on a boat on the Yarra. Now keep low in the water and swim away
quickly. Someone may have a gun."
The seal vanished amid the dark wavelets. The rider turned his mare, ran a hairy hand over the stubble
on his chin and rode for the shore. As he rode clear of the water one of the promenaders hailed him.
"I say there, sir, there was a seal out there in the water," he called as he hurried over with several other
men. A few women minced after them, their hooped skirts bobbing and swaying.