"Smith, Wilbur - Courtney 03 - A Sparrow Falls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

asked harshly.

They all saw the flush of anger darken his face, and the Adjutant
intervened swiftly. I've been on to Colonel Caithness at 3rd Battalion,
and we did a deal, sir. He has agreed to send us Anders and f MacDonald
You got them! The Colonel looked delighted. Oh I say, that's
excellent. I didn't think Caithness would part with hisprizepair. 1They
came in this morning, and the two of them have been studying the ground
all day. I gave them a free hand, but I understand they are setting up
the shoot for tomorrow. The Young Captain who commanded A Company
pulled out his watch and studied it a moment. They are going out from
my section, sir. As a matter of fact, I was going to go down and give
them a send-off, they will be moving into position at half past twelve.
If you'll excuse me, sir! Yes, of course, off with you, Dicky, wish
them good luck from me. Everybody in the brigade had heard of Anders
and MacDonald.

I'd like to meet that pair. Sean Courtney spoke suddenly, and dutifully
the Colonel agreed. Of course, I'll come out with you, sir. No, no,
Charles, you've been out in the cold all night as it is. I'll just go
along with Dicky here. The snow came down thickly out of the utter
darkness of the midnight sky. It damped down the night sounds in its
thick muffling cloak, muting the regular bursts of a Vickers firing at a
hole in the wire on the battalion's left.

Mark Anders sat wrapped in his borrowed blankets and he bowed his head
to the book in his lap, adjusting his eyes to the yellow wavering light
of the candle-stump.

The rise in temperature that accompanied the first fall of snow and the
changed quality of sound entering the small dug-out awakened the man who
slept beside him. He coughed, and rolled over to open a chink in the
canvas curtain beside his head. Damn, he said, and coughed again, the
harsh hammering sound of a heavy smoker. Damn it to hell. It's
snowing. Then he rolled back to Mark.

You still reading? he demanded roughly. Always with your nose in a
bloody book. You'll ruin your shooting eyes. Mark lifted his head.
It's been snowing for an hour already. What you want all that learning
for? Fergus MacDonald was not so easily distracted. It won't do you no
good. I don't like the snow, said Mark. We didn't reckon on the snow.
The snow complicated the task ahead of them. It would cover the ground
out there with a sensitive mantle of white. Anybody moving out from the
trench into noman's-land would leave tracks that the dawn light would
instantly betray to an observant enemy.

A match flared and Fergus lit two Woodbines and passed one to Mark. They
sat shoulder to shoulder, huddled in their blankets.

You can call off the shoot, Mark. Tell em to shove it.