"ElizabethGaskell-TheHalfBrothers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gaskell Elizabeth C)

whenever he saw it, partly for its own demerits, partly because it
belonged to my brother. On such occasions, Gregory would whistle
Lassie away, and go off and sit with her in some outhouse. My father
had once or twice been ashamed of himself, when the poor collie had
yowled out with the suddenness of the pain, and had relieved himself
of his self-reproach by blaming my brother, who, he said, had no
notion of training a dog, and was enough to ruin any collie in
Christendom with his stupid way of allowing them to lie by the
kitchen fire. To all which Gregory would answer nothing, nor even
seem to hear, but go on looking absent and moody.

Yes! there again! It was Lassie's bark! Now or never! I lifted up
my voice and shouted "Lassie! Lassie! for God's sake, Lassie!"
Another moment, and the great white-faced Lassie was curving and
gambolling with delight round my feet and legs, looking, however, up
in my face with her intelligent, apprehensive eyes, as if fearing
lest I might greet her with a blow, as I had done oftentimes before.
But I cried with gladness, as I stooped down and patted her. My mind
was sharing in my body's weakness, and I could not reason, but I knew
that help was at hand. A gray figure came more and more distinctly
out of the thick, close-pressing darkness. It was Gregory wrapped in
his maud.

"Oh, Gregory!" said I, and I fell upon his neck, unable to speak
another word. He never spoke much, and made me no answer for some
little time. Then he told me we must move, we must walk for the dear
life--we must find our road home, if possible; but we must move, or
we should be frozen to death.

"Don't you know the way home?" asked I.

"I thought I did when I set out, but I am doubtful now. The snow
blinds me, and I am feared that in moving about just now, I have lost
the right gait homewards."

He had his shepherd's staff with him, and by dint of plunging it
before us at every step we took--clinging close to each other, we
went on safely enough, as far as not falling down any of the steep
rocks, but it was slow, dreary work. My brother, I saw, was more
guided by Lassie and the way she took than anything else, trusting to
her instinct. It was too dark to see far before us; but he called
her back continually, and noted from what quarter she returned, and
shaped our slow steps accordingly. But the tedious motion scarcely
kept my very blood from freezing. Every bone, every fibre in my body
seemed first to ache, and then to swell, and then to turn numb with
the intense cold. My brother bore it better than I, from having been
more out upon the hills. He did not speak, except to call Lassie. I
strove to be brave, and not complain; but now I felt the deadly fatal
sleep stealing over me.