[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Ihave fifty pesos, and I want to escape.""It is impossible.I searched thee--""It was hidden.I will give it to your honour as a pledge.I know where tofind much more money, if your honour would deign to release me and let me leadyou to where it is hidden.Have you not heard how, when I was arrested, it wastestified that in the town I spent, in one evening, enough to keep you for ayear? That was nothing to me.I am rich."The jailer stroked his stubbly chin."Verminous mongrel," he said, more amiably, "show me this fifty pesos and Iwill believe thee."The Saint ran his fingers through his tangled hair, and there fell out a note.The jailer recognized it, and his avaricious eyes gleamed.He reached a claw-like hand through the bars, but the Saint jerked the noteout of his reach.The jailer's face darkened."Abominable insect," he said, "thou hast no right to that.Thou art a convict,and thy goods are forfeit to the State.As the servant of the State I willconfiscate that paper, that thy low-born hands may defile it no longer."He reached for his keys, but the Saint held up a warning hand."If you try to do that, amigo," he said, "I shall cry out so loudly that theother warders will come down to see what has happened.Then I shall tell them,and they will make you divide the fifty pesos with them.And I shall refuse totell you where I have hidden the rest of my money.Why not release me, andhave it all for yourself?""But how shall I know that thou dost not lie?"The Saint's hands went again to his hair, and a rain of fifty-peso notes fellto the floor.He picked them up and counted them before the jailer.There werethirty of them altogether."See, I have them here!" he said."Fifteen hundred pesos is a lot of money.Now open this door and I will give them to you."The jailer's eyes narrowed cunningly.Did this fool of a pe¢n really believethat he would be given his liberty in exchange for such a paltry sum?Apparently.Not that the sum was so paltry, being equal to about two hundred pounds inEnglish money; but if any prisoner escaped, the jailer would be blamed for it,and probably imprisoned himself.Yet this simpleton seemed to imagine that hehad only to hand over his bribe and the jailer would risk punishment to earnit.Page 72 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlVery well, let him have his childish belief.It would be easily settled.Thedoor opened, the money paid over, a shot.And then there would be no one tobear witness against him.The prisoner was known to be violent.He hadattempted to escape, and was shot.It would be easy to invent a story toaccount for the opening of the cell door."Senor pe¢n," said the jailer, "I see now that your honour should not beherded in with these cattle.I will set your honour free and your honour willgive me the money, and I shall remember your honour in my prayers."He tiptoed back to his chair and picked up his rifle.Then, with elaborateprecautions against noise, he unlocked the cell door, and the pe¢n came outinto the passage.The other prisoners still snored, and there was no sound but the droning ofthe flies to arouse them.The whole colloquy had been conducted in whispers,for it was imperative for the jailer as for the pe¢n that there should be nopremature alarm."Now give me the money," said the jailer huskily.The Saint held out the handful of notes, and one broke loose and fluttered tothe floor.As the jailer bent to pick it up, the Saint reached over him andslid the man's knife gently out of his belt.As the man straightened up theSaint's arm whipped round his neck, strangling his cry of fear before it couldpass his throat.And the man felt the point of the knife prick his chest."Put thy rifle down against the wall," breathed the Saint in his ear."If itmakes a sound thou wilt not speak again."No rifle could ever have been grounded more silently.The Saint withdrew the knife and picked the man off his feet.In an instant,and without a sound, he had him on the floor, holding him with his legs in ajiu-jitsu lock so that he could not move."Be very quiet," urged the Saint, and let him feel the knife again.The man lay like one dead.The Saint, his hands now free, twisted the man'sarms behind his back and tied them with the sling of his rifle.Then he rolledthe man over."When you searched me," he said, "I had a knife.Where is it?""I am wearing it."The Saint rolled up the man's sleeve and unstrapped the sheath from hisforearm.With loving care he transferred it to his own arm, for he had hadAnna for years, and she was the darling of his heart.That littlethrowing-knife, which he could wield so expertly, had accompanied him throughcountless adventures, and had saved his life many times.He loved it like achild, and the loss of it would have left him inconsolable.With Anna back in her place, the Saint felt more like him self-though it isdoubtful if anyone could have been found to agree with him, for he could neverin his life have looked so dirty and disreputable as he was then.He, SimonTemplar, the Saint, the man who was known for his invariable elegance and hisalmost supernatural power of remaining immaculate and faultlessly groomed evenin the most hectic rough-house and the most uncivilized parts of the world,Page 73 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlhad neither washed nor shaved for nearly four days.There was no provision forthese luxuries in the prison of Santa Miranda.And his clothes had beendreadful enough when Kelly had borrowed them off his under-gardener for thepurpose; now, after having been lived in day and night on the stone pile andin the filthy cell which they had just left, their condition may beimagined.His greatest wish at that moment was to get near some soap and water; andalready the time of grace for such a diversion was getting short [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl matkasanepid.xlx.pl
.Ihave fifty pesos, and I want to escape.""It is impossible.I searched thee--""It was hidden.I will give it to your honour as a pledge.I know where tofind much more money, if your honour would deign to release me and let me leadyou to where it is hidden.Have you not heard how, when I was arrested, it wastestified that in the town I spent, in one evening, enough to keep you for ayear? That was nothing to me.I am rich."The jailer stroked his stubbly chin."Verminous mongrel," he said, more amiably, "show me this fifty pesos and Iwill believe thee."The Saint ran his fingers through his tangled hair, and there fell out a note.The jailer recognized it, and his avaricious eyes gleamed.He reached a claw-like hand through the bars, but the Saint jerked the noteout of his reach.The jailer's face darkened."Abominable insect," he said, "thou hast no right to that.Thou art a convict,and thy goods are forfeit to the State.As the servant of the State I willconfiscate that paper, that thy low-born hands may defile it no longer."He reached for his keys, but the Saint held up a warning hand."If you try to do that, amigo," he said, "I shall cry out so loudly that theother warders will come down to see what has happened.Then I shall tell them,and they will make you divide the fifty pesos with them.And I shall refuse totell you where I have hidden the rest of my money.Why not release me, andhave it all for yourself?""But how shall I know that thou dost not lie?"The Saint's hands went again to his hair, and a rain of fifty-peso notes fellto the floor.He picked them up and counted them before the jailer.There werethirty of them altogether."See, I have them here!" he said."Fifteen hundred pesos is a lot of money.Now open this door and I will give them to you."The jailer's eyes narrowed cunningly.Did this fool of a pe¢n really believethat he would be given his liberty in exchange for such a paltry sum?Apparently.Not that the sum was so paltry, being equal to about two hundred pounds inEnglish money; but if any prisoner escaped, the jailer would be blamed for it,and probably imprisoned himself.Yet this simpleton seemed to imagine that hehad only to hand over his bribe and the jailer would risk punishment to earnit.Page 72 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlVery well, let him have his childish belief.It would be easily settled.Thedoor opened, the money paid over, a shot.And then there would be no one tobear witness against him.The prisoner was known to be violent.He hadattempted to escape, and was shot.It would be easy to invent a story toaccount for the opening of the cell door."Senor pe¢n," said the jailer, "I see now that your honour should not beherded in with these cattle.I will set your honour free and your honour willgive me the money, and I shall remember your honour in my prayers."He tiptoed back to his chair and picked up his rifle.Then, with elaborateprecautions against noise, he unlocked the cell door, and the pe¢n came outinto the passage.The other prisoners still snored, and there was no sound but the droning ofthe flies to arouse them.The whole colloquy had been conducted in whispers,for it was imperative for the jailer as for the pe¢n that there should be nopremature alarm."Now give me the money," said the jailer huskily.The Saint held out the handful of notes, and one broke loose and fluttered tothe floor.As the jailer bent to pick it up, the Saint reached over him andslid the man's knife gently out of his belt.As the man straightened up theSaint's arm whipped round his neck, strangling his cry of fear before it couldpass his throat.And the man felt the point of the knife prick his chest."Put thy rifle down against the wall," breathed the Saint in his ear."If itmakes a sound thou wilt not speak again."No rifle could ever have been grounded more silently.The Saint withdrew the knife and picked the man off his feet.In an instant,and without a sound, he had him on the floor, holding him with his legs in ajiu-jitsu lock so that he could not move."Be very quiet," urged the Saint, and let him feel the knife again.The man lay like one dead.The Saint, his hands now free, twisted the man'sarms behind his back and tied them with the sling of his rifle.Then he rolledthe man over."When you searched me," he said, "I had a knife.Where is it?""I am wearing it."The Saint rolled up the man's sleeve and unstrapped the sheath from hisforearm.With loving care he transferred it to his own arm, for he had hadAnna for years, and she was the darling of his heart.That littlethrowing-knife, which he could wield so expertly, had accompanied him throughcountless adventures, and had saved his life many times.He loved it like achild, and the loss of it would have left him inconsolable.With Anna back in her place, the Saint felt more like him self-though it isdoubtful if anyone could have been found to agree with him, for he could neverin his life have looked so dirty and disreputable as he was then.He, SimonTemplar, the Saint, the man who was known for his invariable elegance and hisalmost supernatural power of remaining immaculate and faultlessly groomed evenin the most hectic rough-house and the most uncivilized parts of the world,Page 73 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlhad neither washed nor shaved for nearly four days.There was no provision forthese luxuries in the prison of Santa Miranda.And his clothes had beendreadful enough when Kelly had borrowed them off his under-gardener for thepurpose; now, after having been lived in day and night on the stone pile andin the filthy cell which they had just left, their condition may beimagined.His greatest wish at that moment was to get near some soap and water; andalready the time of grace for such a diversion was getting short [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]