"Sean Russell - River Into Darkness 1 - Beneath the Vaunted Hills" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

The old soldier touched his arm again. тАЬIтАЩm sure you didnтАЩt do whatever it was they think you done, sir,
but youтАЩd best go. When authorities come bustinтАШ down your door, they donтАЩt want to hear no
explanations. The gaol is no place for the likes of you, Mr. Hayes. Find the most well-placed friend you
have, sir, and go to him. ThatтАЩs your best hopeтАФthat and a good barrister. Be off now, before someтАЩun
turns you in, as Mrs. Osbourn said. Good luck to you, Mr. Hayes.тАЭ

A group of burly men appeared around the nearby corner and in the light from a window Hayes saw
someone pointing toward him, and he was sure the men he was leading werenтАЩt residents of Paradise
Street.

Hayes slipped back into the shadow, making his way along the fronts of the buildings, hugging the wall.
He pulled up the collar of his frock coat quickly to hide the white of his shirt and neckcloth. Fifty feet
farther he broke into a lope, as quiet as he could, passing ghostlike through the rectangles of stained light.

He dodged down an alley, slowing now for lack of light, feeling his way, his heart pounding and his
breath short, though heтАЩd hardly run at all. Fear, he realized. / am running in fear from the authorities.
This was how men disappeared into the darkness of the poor quarter.

There were shouts behind him and the sound of men running, then suddenly slowing. A lantern swung into
the alley at his back, but it was too far away for the light to touch him.

In a hundred feet he came out into another street and turned left. His instinct was to head for the lighted
streetsтАФthe safe streetsтАФbut the men chasing him were not cutthroats who kept to the dark, and in the
streetlights he would be seen more easily.

But still he found himself gravitating that way, mothlike. It was the habit of a lifetime; a desire to escape,
to not disappear entirely. He continued to hear the men shouting. Hayes pushed himself on, fighting to
catch his breath, not even sure if they were still following himтАФafraid to look back.

He was heading toward Brinsley Park, and Spring StreetтАФthe beginning of the lighted boulevards. This
is madness, he told himself. The darkness was his ally now. The place he thought constantly of escaping,
and now it sheltered him. He should cling to it, wrap it around himself, for it was all that protected him.

But if he stayed here, in the twilight quarter, someone would give him awayтАФfor he would never be
anything but an outsider, here. Not safe in the darkness or the light. Better the light, then. Too many
disappeared in the darkness.

Hayes took the risk of pausing before he went out onto the lit street that bordered Brinsley Park. For a
moment he stood listening to the sounds down the darkened alley he was about to leave. His pursuers
were likely not far behind.

Almost more than hear, Hayes sensed noise down the street, not on top of him but too close. Composing
himself, he stepped out onto the lamplit street, monitoring his pace so that he would not stand out, yet
making the best time he could.

Couples walked at their leisure, especially on the streetтАЩs far side, which is where he wanted to be, as far
from his tormentors as he could be. Weaving between carriages and tradesmenтАЩs carts, Hayes strode
quickly to the opposite side, realizing that this was a mistakeтАФbecause of the size of the park there were
no streets leading off from that side of the avenue for a distance equal to several blocks. More than