الیور تا مدتی کنار جوی آب افتاده بود. وقتی سپیده زد، هوا سردتر شد و مه همه جا را گرفت. از بخت بد، باران شروع به باریدن کرد، اما الیور با این که خیس شده بود، چیزی را احساس نمیکرد. سرانجام به هوش آمد و از درد فریاد کشید. شالی که به دور دستش پیچیده بود، غرق خون بود. نایی نداشت تا بلند شود و بنشیند. درحالیکه از سرما و خستگی میلرزید، یکی – دو بار سعی کرد بلند شود. حس میکرد که اگر آنجا بماند میمیرد. عاقبت افتان و خیزان خود را به جاده رساند. باران تند، او را هشیار کرد و خانهای را در آن نزدیکی دید. وقتی با بیحالی به سوی خانه رفت، آن را شناخت. همان خانهای بود که شب قبل برای دزدی به آنجا رفته بودند. خواست فرار کند، اما توان نداشت. تازه، به کجا میتوانست برود؟
At home we started with an innocent life. Walking home from village dances across pale wet fields, looking at birds on the moonlit lake, playing a tune across the water in the early morning with no other sound in the clear cold air.' Innocence and experience, loss and longing, humour and
I turned on the light, but there was nobody there. Then I saw something in the corner that made my blood turn cold. Scudder was lying on his back. There was a long knife through his heart, pinning him to the floor.' Soon Richard Hannay is running for his life across the hills of Scotland. The police are chasing him for a murder he did not do, and another, more dangerous enemy is chasing him as well - the mysterious 'Black Stone'. Who are these people? And why do they want Hannay dead?
Tom Walsh had a lot to learn about life. He liked travelling, and he was in no hurry. He liked meeting people, anyone and everyone. He liked the two American girls on the train. They were nice and very friendly. They knew a lot of places. Tom thought they were fun. Tom certainly had a lot to