"Robert Charles Wilson - Julian- A Christmas Story" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson Robert Charles)

made in the same mold, and my relations with the stable's equine inhabitants rarely extended beyond a
brisk mutual tolerance. I did not love my jobтАФwhich consisted largely of sweeping straw, shoveling
ordure, and doing in general those chores the older stablehands felt to be beneath their dignityтАФso I was
pleased when it became customary for a household amanuensis (or even Sam Godwin in person) to
arrive and summon me away from my work at Julian's request. (Since the request emanated from a
Comstock it couldn't be overruled, no matter how fiercely the grooms and saddlers gnashed their teeth to
see me escape their autocracy.)

At first we met to read and discuss books, or hunt together; later, Sam Godwin invited me to audit
Julian's lessons, for he had been charged with Julian's education as well as his general welfare. (I had
been taught the rudiments of reading and writing at the Dominion school, and refined these skills under
the tutelage of my mother, who believed in the power of literacy as an improving force. My father could
neither read nor write.) And it was not more than a year after our first acquaintance that Sam presented
himself one evening at my parents' cottage with an extraordinary proposal.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hazzard," Sam had said, putting his hand up to touch his cap (which he had removed
when he entered the cottage, so that the gesture looked like a salute), "you know of course about the
friendship between your son and Julian Comstock."

"Yes," my mother said. "And worry over it often enoughтАФmatters at the Estate being what they are."

My mother was a small woman, plump, but forceful, with ideas of her own. My father, who spoke
seldom, on this occasion spoke not at all, only sat in his chair holding a laurel-root pipe, which he did not
light.

"Matters at the Estate are exactly the crux of the issue," Sam Godwin said. "I'm not sure how much
Adam has told you about our situation there. Julian's father, General Bryce Comstock, who was my
friend as well as my commanding officer, shortly before his death charged me with Julian's care and
well-beingтАФ"

"Before his death," my mother pointed out, "at the gallows, for treason."

Sam winced. "True, Mrs. Hazzard, I can't deny it, but I assert my belief that the trial was rigged and
the verdict indefensible. Defensible or not, however, it doesn't alter my obligation as far as the son is
concerned. I promised to care for the boy, Mrs. Hazzard, and I mean to keep my promise."

"A Christian sentiment." Her skepticism was not entirely disguised.

"As for your implication about the Estate, and the practices of the young heirs and heiresses there, I
couldn't agree more. Which is why I approved and encouraged Julian's friendship with your son. Apart
from Adam, Julian has no true friends. The Estate is such a den of venomous snakesтАФno offense," he
added, remembering our religious affiliation, and making the common but mistaken assumption that
congregants of the Church of Signs necessarily like snakes, or feel some kinship with themтАФ"no offense,
but I would sooner allow Julian to associate with, uh, scorpions," striking for a more palatable simile,
"than abandon him to the sneers, machinations, ruses, and ruinous habits of his peers. That makes me not
only his teacher but his constant companion. But I'm almost three times his age, Mrs. Hazzard, and he
needs a reliable friend more nearly of his own growth."

"What do you propose, exactly, Mr. Godwin?"