"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 121 - The Black, Black Witch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

тАЬYes.тАЭ

тАЬThat was three hundred and eighty-eight years ago.тАЭ

тАЬYes.тАЭ

тАЬCould it be the same witch?тАЭ

тАЬHow long do you think witches live?тАЭ

тАЬI don't think they live at all,тАЭ Monk said. тАЬI think there ain't no such thing as witches.тАЭ

тАЬScientists,тАЭ Doc said, тАЬwill agree with you.тАЭ

Monk scratched his head. тАЬWhat about this sixteenth-century witch? You've got my curiosity aroused.тАЭ
тАЬI think,тАЭ Doc said, тАЬwe are getting close to the farmhouse.тАЭ



ANOTHER road had joined the road they were following, and there was pavement of asphalt that had
been pitted by weather and not properly maintained. The clouds thinned somewhat, enough to let
moonlight down, and they could see that great, dignified trees bordered the road. And they saw lights in
two or three farmhouses and passed others that were dark at this late hour.

тАЬLook,тАЭ Monk whispered.

A farmhouse had in a front window two candles which shed light on a white plaster image of Joan of Are
standing with uplifted sword.

тАЬLooks like it,тАЭ Monk said.

They stood in front of the farmhouse and listened, but there was no alarming sound. Doc Savage then
circled the house.

It was a typical peasant French farm home, low and gray, with plenty of shrubbery and the usual manure
pile in the yard.

He rejoined Monk.

Monk said, тАЬI took a peep in the window. Funny little old lady in there.тАЭ

Doc went to the window. He saw a room with a low-beamed ceiling, old-fashioned stove, cupboards,
knicknacks.

The old lady sat sewing in a rocking chair. She wore a shapeless peasant dress and a shawl over her
head, and had white hair and a square face with an ageless tranquillity in its wrinkles. She seemed to be
fashioning a bit of lace. She and the room looked peaceful.

Doc knocked on the door. The old lady opened it for them.