A Minor Mystery

Anthony's eye roved блуждал no more. He felt that the gauze дымка, which could not contain the torrents потоки of the world's activities энергии, might house приютить this butterfly and not brush off отказываться its bloom цвет. He read the paragraph with attention. It described the breakdown анализ "many miles from nowhere ниоткуда" of the Blue Alsatian Express at the foot of the Jura Mountains. It described the blue smoke rising from a heated разгорячённой axle оси, the engine-driver машинист sprinting along the lines like a madman, soldiers jumping out выскакивающие on the line and playing a concertina , a nervous woman-passenger wonder­ing what had happened; it indicated the plutocratic авторитарная luxury of the corridor train with its restaurant ; it told of the blue mountains and the blue sky, and "the haymaking косящих сено damsels девицах in white sunbonnets защищающих от солнца шляпах and

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hayforks сенных вилах on their shoulders" who "are laughing at us over the hedg­erows живую изгородь".

And then came the paragraph headed "A Minor Mystery" which ended the account отчёт of the accident.

"One mystery about this train will never be solved . When it first came to a standstill застопорилось на a quiet little man, who looked like a country farm­er, packed up упаковавший his things, climbed out of the train, and deliberately медленно walked away from it without any outward видимого sign of annoyance раздражения, hesita­tion колебания, or distraction смущения, crossing the fields and disappearing into a wood.

Had the breakdown поломку occurred within easy reach of his own home or destination места назначения?"

"Oh, no," said Anthony, answering the journalist, "of course not!"

Why should it? It was most unlikely. And — annoyance раздражение? Why should the little man be annoyed? And where was the Mystery, Mi­nor or Major ?

Railways — it is their drawback помеха — compel заставляет you to travel to some­where. You, who desire to travel to Anywhere, must take your ticket to Stroud or Stoke, and chance it. The safest plan is to choose some place with a name like Lulworth , Downderry, or Nether Wallop нижний удар; such places surely cannot go far достигать wrong. But even though they prove to be heaven in its first, second, or third degree, still, there you must go, and nowhere else; — and think of the Seventh Heavens you flash несётесь through continually on your way there, Heavens with no names and no stations, Heavens to which no tickets are issued выпускаются. To whom has it not happened, time and again, on his way to the Seaside, the Moors , or the Highlands, to cry in his heart, at some glimpse проблеске of Paradise from the carriage windows: " That is where I really wanted to go — that is where I would like to get out выйти! That valley of flowers, that cottage in the birch-glade берёзовой поляне, that buttercup лютиковое field with the little river and a king­fisher зимородком — if only the train would stop!" — But it never does.

Never? Once it did. Anthony laughed aloud at that Minor Mistery in his morning paper. Where was the Mystery? Luck удача had been with the quiet little man, and he did the only thing there was to do.

..."Why have we stopped?" asked the nervous lady who sat op­posite Anthony in the stuffy carriage.

"Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!" laughed a fresh young voice outside.

"Preposterous абсурдно, preposterous! I shall be late!" snorted пыхтел a fat millionaire .

"I want my lunch," puffed пыхтела his fat wife. "I refuse to go without my lunch!"

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Anthony looked out of the window. A hedgerow живая изгородь bowed изогнутая with blos­som цветением, beyond по ту сторону it a meadow луг in full flower, long flowering grass, thread­ed пронизанный with flowering stems стволами, lace-white ажурно-белые, chicory -blue цикориево-голубых flowers, a profusion изобилие of flowers shimmering мерцающих in the long grass. In one part of the meadow луг the grass lay лежала mowed in swathes скошенных рядах, the sweet душистыми flowers with it. A party группа of young peasants крестьян, in loose white shirts and embroidered вышитых jackets куртках and aprons передниках, lay in the grass munching жуя honey-cake and drinking light beer . One tall young fellow, splendid as a god, stood edgeways боком in the sunlight, his bright блестяшая scythe коса shining. A few girls stood and stooped склонились in the long grass, picking the flowers; some wore wreaths венки of the blue and white flowers, some were laughing under their white sunbonnets защищающих от солнца шляпами, some used работали (граблями), some rested опирались on their rakes грабли, all were sweet and fresh and frank искренни.

"Oh, why don't we go on?" moaned застонала the nervous lady. "Oh, what has happened?"

Passengers spoke on all sides. "We are held up застряли!" "We have bro­ken down сломались!" "Bandits! — these dreadful ужасные foreign parts края!" "The engine is on fire!" "The engine-driver машинист has gone mad!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" moaned застонала the nervous lady in the carriage.

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the gay young voices in the air.

"I shall be late, I tell you!" fumed кипел от злости the fat millionaire .

"Are we never going to eat?" puffed пыхтела his wife.

Beyond вдали the meadow луг of flowers and haymakers косари lay находились (простирались) the blue moun­tains, as blue as dreams, as Paradise. Soft dim тусклые woods lay between the meadow луг and the slope скатом. At the very edge кромке of the woods, as though it had just stepped out вышло of the trees and set foot наступил on the grass, was a tiny крошечный cottage with a balcony. In the fringe бахроме of trees meandered извивались little paths and a little stream, and some goats коз. The scent запах of hay сена and flowers and aromatic trees filled the carriage.

"La-la-la-la, ti-ti-ti-ti!" A soldier sitting on the rails was singing The Blue Danube Дунай to a concertina played by another soldier.

The girls in the meadow луг began to dance.

"Oh, what is it, what is it? " wailed завопила the nervous lady.

"Food, food!" puffed пыхтел the fat one.

"How late, how late I shall be!" repeated her husband.

"Keep the doors shut — don't let them come in!" implored заклинала the nervous lady, wringing скручивая her hands.

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the dancing girls, "ha-ha-ha!"

"Swish свист!" sang the young god's scythe коса.

Anthony got his little bag from the rack стеллажа and opened the carriage door. The nervous lady gave a tiny крошечный shriek.

"Ah!" don't let them in!"

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"Late! late! late!"

"Lunch is served. Come!"

Anthony crossed the rail and found a gap ущелье in the blossoming цвететущая hedge кромка. In the hayfield сенокосное угодье, nearly hidden in flowers, was a crooked изогнутая foot­path. It led over the meadows лугами to the little wood at the foot подножия of the blue mountains. He followed it unhesitatingly решительно. He left behind позади him the dancing laughing flower-gatherers, the young god mowing, the peas­ants крестьяне drinking, the soldiers playing, the Blue Alsatian Express con­taining the millionaire who would be late — for what? For what could one be late? One was in Blue Alsatia . To which there are no tickets.

He entered the little wood and was lost to sight.

At the back of the cottage, barefoot by the little stream, stood a girl of sixteen, a lovely grey-eyed child, feeding her kids козлят from a bun­dle вязанки of hay сена in her apron переднике, at which they pushed and pulled. She wore a white chemise женскую сорочку and a blue embroidered вышитой skirt. When the kids were rough нервничали she thrust them from her with her brown toes пальцами на ноге, and laughed like music. On a bench by the cottage stood a pitcher кувшин and a wooden bowl чаша.

Her eyes met Anthony's. She let fall her apron фартук, and the sweet hay сена tumbled упал down, a full feast пир for the kids. She went to the bench, filled the bowl with milk, and offered it to Anthony with a bit of honey-cake, her grey eyes smiling. As he drank, she made a simple gesture.

"Stay," she said.

The Blue Alsatian Express went on without him.

Anthony stirred размешал his tea-cup. In the next column колонке was an account отчёт of Last Night's Debate on —

He skipped перескочил it.

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