Breakheart Pass. Alistair MacLean

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СКАЧАТЬ to raise a glass to his lips as both hands were bound behind his back. His ankles, too, were tied. He was sitting on the floor, most uncomfortably hunched, close by the passageway leading to the night compartments. Apart from Marica, who cast him an occasionally troubled glance, none of the others present appeared to feel that Deakin’s presence there constituted a jarring note. On the frontier, life was cheap and suffering so commonplace as hardly to merit notice, far less sympathy.

      Nathan Pearce lifted his glass. ‘Your very good health, gentlemen. My word. Colonel, I never knew the army travelled in such style. No wonder our taxes -’

      Claremont was curt. ‘The army, Marshal, does not travel in such style. This is Governor Fairchild’s private coach. Behind your back are the two sleeping compartments normally reserved for the Governor and his wife - in this case the Governor and his niece - and beyond that again their private dining compartment. The Governor has very kindly offered to let us travel and eat with him.’

      Pearce raised his glass again. ‘Well, bully for you. Governor.’ He paused and looked quizzically at Fairchild. ‘What’s the matter. Governor? You look a mite worried to me.’

      The Governor did, indeed, look a trifle worried. He seemed paler than usual, his face drawn, his lips compressed. He forced a smile, emptied and refilled his glass and attempted to speak lightly.

      ‘Matters of state, my dear Marshal, matters of state. Life in the legislature is not all receptions and balls, you know.’

      ‘I’m sure it’s not. Governor.’ Pearce’s pacific tone turned to one of curiosity. ‘Why are you along on this trip, sir? I mean, as a civilian -’

      O’Brien interrupted. ‘A governor has full military powers in his own state, Nathan. Surely you know that.’

      Fairchild said pontifically: ‘There are certain matters calling for my personal presence and attention in Fort Humboldt.’ He glanced at Claremont, who gave a tiny shake of his head. ‘More I can’t say - not, that is, at the moment.’

      Pearce nodded, as if satisfied, and did not pursue the topic. A silence, not wholly comfortable, fell over the compartment, and was interrupted only twice by the entrance of Henry, the tall, immensely thin and almost cadaverous steward, once to top up glasses, once to replenish the cordwood-burning stove. Deakin’s head had fallen forward on to his chest and his eyes were closed: he was either shutting out the world around him or had genuinely fallen asleep, which would have been no mean feat for a man trussed as uncomfortably as he was and having to brace himself, however unconsciously, against the increasingly erratic movements of the coach. The train, having reached a comparatively level stretch, had picked up speed and was beginning to sway from side to side. Even in those plushly upholstered seats, the motion was becoming distinctly uncomfortable.

      Marica said uneasily to the Governor: ‘Must we go so fast. Uncle Charles? Why all the fearful hurry?’

      Claremont answered for the Governor. ‘Because the engineer. Miss Fairchild, is under orders to make the best speed possible. And because this is an army relief train, and we’re late. The United States Cavalry does not like to be late - and we’re already two days behind schedule.’ He lifted his eyes as Henry entered a third time and loomed there, the very image of the melancholy dyspeptic to whom, apparently, life was an intolerable burden.

      ‘Governor, Colonel. Dinner is served.’

      The dining-room was small, holding only two four-seater tables, but was furnished to the same luxurious standards as the day saloon. The Governor, his niece, Claremont and O’Brien were seated at one table, Pearce, Dr Molyneux and the Rev. Peabody at the other. There were some bottles of both red and white wines on the table and, by some legerdemain known only to Henry, the white wine was actually chilled. Henry himself moved around with a quiet if lugubrious efficiency.

      Peabody lifted an austere hand against Henry’s offer of wine, turned his glass, in what was clearly intended to be a significant gesture, upside down on the tablecloth, then resumed gazing at Pearce with an expression of mingled awe and horrified fascination.

      Peabody said: ‘By coincidence. Marshal, both the doctor and I come from Ohio, but even in those distant parts everyone has heard of you. My word, it is an odd sensation. Peculiar, most peculiar. I mean, to be sitting here, in person, so to speak, with the most famous - ah - lawman in the West.’

      Pearce smiled. ‘Notorious, you mean, Reverend.’

      ‘No, no, no! Famous, I assure you.’ Peabody’s assurances were made in a very hasty fashion. ‘A man of peace, of God, if you want, but I do clearly appreciate that it was in the line of duty that you had to kill all those scores of Indians -’

      Pearce said protestingly : ‘Easy on. Reverend, easy on. Not scores, just a handful and even then only when I had to. And there was hardly an Indian among them, mostly white renegades and outlaws - and that was years ago. Today, I’m like you - I’m a man of peace. Ask the Governor -he’ll bear me out.’

      Peabody steeled himself. ‘Then why do you carry two guns. Marshal?’

      ‘Because if I don’t, I’m dead. There are at least a dozen men, most of them recently released from the prisons to which I sent them, who would dearly love to have my head on a platter. None of them will pull a gun on me, because I have acquired a certain reputation in the use of a hand gun. But my reputation would offer me as much protection as a sheet of paper if any of them ever found me without a gun.’ Pearce tapped his guns. ‘Those aren’t offensive weapons. Reverend. Those are my insurance policies.’

      Peabody carefully hid his disbelief. ‘A man of peace?’

      ‘Now? Yes. I was an army scout once, an Indian fighter, if you like. There are still plenty around. But a man gets sick of killing.’

      ‘A man?’ Despite what he probably imagined as his poker face, the preacher was manifestly still unconvinced. ‘You?’

      ‘There are more ways of pacifying Indians than shooting holes in them. I asked the Governor here to appoint me Indian agent for the territory. I settle differences between Indians and whites, allocate reservations, try and stop the traffic in guns and whisky and see to it that the undesirable whites are removed from the territory’ He smiled. ‘Which is part of my job as Marshal anyway. It’s slow work, but I’m making a little progress. I think the Paiutes almost trust me now. Which reminds me.’ He looked at the other table. Colonel.’

      Claremont lifted an enquiring eyebrow.

      ‘Might be a good idea to have the curtains pulled about now, sir. We’re running into hostile territory, and there’s no point in drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves.’

      ‘So soon? Well, you should know. Henry! You heard? Then go tell Sergeant Bellew to do the same.’

      Peabody tugged Pearce’s sleeve. His face was a mask of apprehension. ‘Hostile territory did you say? Hostile Indians?’

      ‘Mainly we just call them hostiles.’

      Pearce’s indifference served only to deepen Peabody’s fears. ‘But - but you said they trusted you!’

      ‘That’s right. They trust me.’

      ‘Ah!’ What this meant was not clear, nor did Peabody care to elaborate. He just swallowed several times in rapid succession and lapsed into silence.

      Henry СКАЧАТЬ