The Top of the World. Ethel M. Dell. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Ethel M. Dell
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4057664586858
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Her sensations were indescribable. The water splashed high around them, and every bone in her body seemed to suffer a separate knock or jar. If Ranger had not previously impressed her with his level-headedness she would have thought him mad. But her confidence in him remained unshaken, and in a very few seconds it proved to be justified. They were through the spruit and halfway up the further side before she drew breath. Then she found that they were slackening pace.

      She turned to Ranger with kindling eyes. "Oh, you are a sportsman!" she said. "How I should love to be able to drive like that!"

      He smiled without turning his head. "I'm afraid this last is a man's job. So you are awake now, are you? I was afraid you were going to tumble out."

      She laughed. "The heat makes one drowsy. I shall get used to it."

      He was pulling in the horses. "There's some shade round the corner. We'll rest for an hour or two."

      "I shall like that," said Sylvia.

      A group of small larch-trees grew among the stones at the top of the slope, and by these he stopped. Sylvia looked around her with appreciation as she alighted.

      "I am going to like South Africa," she said,

      "I wonder!" said Ranger.

      He began to unbuckle the traces, and she went round to the other side and did the same.

      "Poor dears, they are hot!" she said.

      "Don't you do that!" said Ranger.

      She was tugging at the buckle. "Why not? I like doing it. I love horses, don't you? But I know you do by the way you handle them. Do you do your own horse-breaking? That's a job you might give me."

      "Am I going to find you employment, then?" said Burke.

      She laughed a little, bending her flushed face down. "Don't women do any work out here?"

      "Yes. They work jolly hard, some of 'em."

      "Are you married?" said Sylvia.

      "No."

      She heaved a sigh.

      "Sorry?" he enquired.

      She finished her task and looked up. Her frank eyes met his across the horses' backs. "No. I think I'm rather glad. I don't like feminine authority at all."

      "That means you like your own way," observed Burke.

      She nodded. "Yes. But I don't always get it."

      "Are you a good loser?" he said.

      She hesitated. "I hope I'm a sportsman. I try to be."

      He moved to the horses' heads. "Come and hold this animal for me while I hobble the other!" he said.

      She obeyed him readily. There was something of boyish alertness in her movements that sent a flicker of approval into the man's eyes. She drew the horse's head to her breast with a crooning sound.

      "He is a bit tricky with strangers," observed Burke, as he led the other away.

      "Oh, not with me!" said Sylvia, "He knows I love him."

      When he returned to relieve her of her charge she was kissing the forehead between the full soft eyes that looked at her with perfect confidence.

      "See!" she said. "We are friends already."

      "I shall call you The Enchantress," said Burke. "Will you see if you can find a suitable spot for a picnic now?"

      "Yes, but I can't conjure up a meal," said Sylvia.

      "I can," he said. "There's a basket under the seat."

      "How ripping!" she said. "I think you are the magician."

      He smiled. "Rather a poor specimen, I am afraid. You go and select the spot, and I will bring it along!"

      Again she obeyed with cheerful alacrity. Her choice was unhesitating. A large boulder threw an inviting shade, and she sat down among the stones and took off her hat.

      Her red-gold hair gleamed against the dark background. Burke Ranger's eyes dwelt upon it as he moved to join her. She looked up at him.

      "I love this place. It feels so—good."

      He glanced up at the brazen sky. "You wouldn't say so if you wanted rain as badly as I do," he observed. "We haven't had nearly enough this season. But I am glad you can enjoy it."

      "I like it more and more," said Sylvia. She stretched an arm towards the wide veldt all about them. "I am simply aching for a gallop over that—a gallop in the very early morning, and to see the sun rise from that knoll!"

      "That's a kopje," said Burke.

      Again half-unconsciously his eyes dwelt upon her vivid face. She seemed to draw his look almost in spite of him. He set down the basket by her side.

      "Am I to unpack?" said Sylvia.

      He dropped his eyes. "No. I will. It isn't much of a feed; only enough to keep us from starvation. Tell me some more about yourself! Tell me about your people—your home!"

      "Have you never heard of me before?" she asked. "Did—Guy—never speak of me?"

      "I knew there was someone." Burke spoke rather unwillingly. "I don't think he ever actually spoke of you to me. We're not exactly—kindred spirits, he and I."

      "You don't like him," said Sylvia.

      "Nor he me," said Burke Ranger.

      She looked at him with her candid eyes. "I don't think you are very tolerant of weakness, are you?" she said gently.

      "I don't know," he said non-committally. "Won't you tell me about yourself?"

      The subject of Guy was obviously distasteful to him, yet her whole life during the past five years had been so closely linked to the thought of that absent lover of hers that it was impossible to speak of the one without the other. She told him all without reservation, feeling in a fashion that it was his right to know.

      He listened gravely, without comment, until she ended, when he made one brief observation. "And so you chose the deep sea!"

      "Could I have done anything else?" she said. "Would you have done anything else?"

      "Probably not," he said. "But a man is better equipped to fight the undercurrents!"

      "You think I was very rash?" she questioned.

      He smiled. "One doesn't look for caution in a girl. I think your father deserved a horsewhipping, for letting you go."

      "He couldn't prevent me," said Sylvia quickly.

      "Pshaw!" said Burke Ranger.

      "You're very rude," she protested.

      His smile became a laugh. "I could have prevented you," he said.

      She flushed. "Indeed you couldn't! I am not a namby-pamby miss. I go my own way. I——"

      She broke off suddenly. Burke's eyes, grey as steel in his sun-tanned face, were upon her. He looked amused at her vehemence.

      "Well?" he said encouragingly. "Finish!"

      She laughed in spite of herself. "No, I shan't say any more. I never argue with the superior male. I just—go my own way, that's all."

      "From which I gather that you are not particularly partial to the superior male," said Burke.

      "I hate the species," said Sylvia with simplicity.

      "Except when it kneels at your feet," he suggested, looking ironical.

      "No, I want to kick it then," she said.

      "You seem difficult to please," he observed.

      Sylvia looked out across the veldt. "I like a man to be just a jolly comrade," she said. "If he can't be that,