"Louis L'amour - sackett02 - To The Far Blue Mountains" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

"I'll do it."
"A moment, Tom. You spoke of a favor?"
He took hold of my stirrup leather. "Barnabas, it is hanging at Tyburn if I'm
caught, and it is said that you are lately home from the new lands across the
sea, and that you sail again soon. There's naught left for me in England, lad,
nor will there ever be again. I am for the sea, and if you'll have me aboard,
I'll be your man 'til death.
"If you know aught of me you know I'm a seaman. I've been a soldier as well, and
am handy with weapons or boats. Take me over the sea and I'll make out to stay
there."
There was sincerity in him, and well enough I knew the man, a strong and steady
one, by all accounts. To be a smuggler in Britain was to be in good company, for
the laws were harsh and many a churchman or officer was involved in it, or
looking aside when it was done.
Our fens in Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire were havens for smugglers, for there
were many winding waterways by which a boat could come from the sea, and a score
of towns the boat could come to with no hint that it came from the sea.
"Think well of what you ask, Tom. It is a far land to which I'll go. There be
savages there, and forests such as you've never seen. It will be no easy time."
"Whenever was it easy for such a man as I? The scars I carry speak of no easy
times, lad, and however bad it may be it will be better than the steps and the
noose, and that's what awaits me here."

When he had gone I sat listening for a time, untrusting of the darkness, but
heard no sound for the slow dripdrip of raindrops from the leaves. Black Tom
would be a good man in Raleigh's land ... a good man.
My horse started of his own volition, impatient of standing, and sheathing my
sword I let him go, then loosened the flap of my saddle holster on the right
side. As we drew near the tavern I turned my mount to the grassy border along
the track that we called a road.
A tall man who moved like a swordsman? A man with black and greasy hair? I knew
of none such.
Before me appeared the lights from dim and dirty windows, and I remembered the
tavern. An old place, with a stable for horses. The door opened and a man came
into the darkness as I drew rein. He closed the door behind him, and I waited.
He stood a moment, then went around the house to the stables. After a moment he
emerged, mounting the horse he led, and turned along the track ahead of me. At a
respectable distance, I followed.
This must be the man who would ride to the cottage to see if I was about. Would
Black Tom mistake him for me?
My stay at the cottage need not be long. It was a thing of sentiment as much as
business that had brought me back, for the feeling was on me that I'd not again
see the home my father had been given for his service in the wars. My father was
Ivo Sackett, yeoman, soldier, first-class fighting man ... a decent man, too,
and as good a teacher as he was a fighter.
There was William to see, for he would care for the land whilst I was gone over
the great waters, and we had a few small matters to speak of. He was a man to be
trusted, but in the event something happened to him ... after all, all men are
mortal.
My father had schooled me well, and although he left me a fine stretch of