"Gordon R. Dickson - Call him lord" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

a while he began to sing to himself, a song in a language Kyle
did not know; and as he sang, his cheerfulness seemed to
return. Shortly, he spoke to Kyle, as if there had never been
anything but pleasant moments between them.
Mammoth Cave was close and the Prince asked to visit it.
They went there and spent some time going through the cave.
After that they rode their horses up along the left bank of the
Green River. The Prince seemed to have forgotten all about
the incident at the beer garden and be out to charm everyone
they met. As the sun was at last westering toward the dinner
hour, they came finally to a small hamlet back from the river,
with a roadside inn mirrored in an artificial lake beside it, and
guarded by oak and pine trees behind.
"This looks good," said the Prince. "We'll stay overnight
here, Kyle."
"If you wish, Lord," said Kyle.
They halted, and Kyle took the horses around to the stable,
then entered the inn to find the Prince already in the small
bar off the dining room, drinking beer and charming the
waitress. This waitress was younger than the one at the beer
garden had been; a little girl with soft, loose hair and round
brown eyes that showed their delight in the attention of the
tall, good-looking, young man.
"Yes," said the Prince to Kyle, looking out of the corners
of the Imperial blue eyes at him, after the waitress had gone
to get Kyle his coffee, "This is the very place."
"The very place?" said Kyle.
"For me to get to know the people betterwhat did you
think, good Kyle?" said the Prince and laughed at him. "I'll
observe the people here and you can explain themwon't
that be good?"
Kyle gazed at him, thoughtfully.
"I'll tell you whatever I can, Lord," he said.
They drankthe Prince his beer, and Kyle his coffeeand
went in a little later to the dining room for dinner. The
Prince, as he had promised at the bar, was full of questions
about what he sawand what he did not see.
". . . But why go on living in the past, all of you here?" he
asked Kyle. "A museum world is one thing. But a museum
people" he broke off to smile and speak to the little,
soft-haired waitress, who had somehow been diverted from
the bar to wait upon their dining-room table.
"Not a museum people, Lord," said Kyle. "A living people.
The only way to keep a race and a culture preserved is to
keep it alive. So we go on in our own way, here on Earth, as a
living example for the Younger Worlds to check themselves
against."
 "Fascinating ..." murmured the Prince; but his eyes had
wandered off to follow the waitress, who was glowing and
looking back at him from across the now-busy dining room.