Лаймен Фрэнк Баум - American Fairy Tales / Американские волшебные сказки. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Naughty!” gasped Beni, with a horrified look.

“’tis a hard word,” said Luigi, sadly, and buried his face in his hands.

“I little thought,” murmured Victor, in a voice broken by emotion, “ever to be so reviled – and by a lady! Yet, perhaps you spoke thoughtlessly. You must consider, miss, that our wickedness has an excuse. For how are we to be bandits, let me ask, unless we are wicked?”

Martha was puzzled and shook her head, thoughtfully. Then she remembered something.

“You can’t remain bandits any longer,” said she, “because you are now in America.”

“America!” cried the three, together.

“Certainly. You are on Prairie avenue, in Chicago. Uncle Walter sent you here from Italy in this chest.”

The bandits seemed greatly bewildered by this announcement. Lugui sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker and wiped his forehead with a yellow silk handkerchief. Beni and Victor fell back upon the chest and looked at her with pale faces and staring eyes.

When he had somewhat recovered himself [6] When he had somewhat recovered himself – ( разг. ) Немного придя в себя Victor spoke.

“Your Uncle Walter has greatly wronged us,” he said, reproachfully. “He has taken us from our beloved Italy, where bandits are highly respected, and brought us to a strange country where we shall not know whom to rob or how much to ask for a ransom.”

“’tis so!” said the fat man, slapping his leg sharply.

“And we had won such fine reputations in Italy!” said Beni, regretfully.

“Perhaps Uncle Walter wanted to reform you,” suggested Martha.

“Are there, then, no bandits in Chicago?” asked Victor.

“Well,” replied the girl, blushing in her turn, “we do not call them bandits.”

“Then what shall we do for a living [7] what shall we do for a living – ( разг. ) как же нам зарабатывать на жизнь ?” inquired Beni, despairingly.

“A great deal can be done in a big American city,” said the child. “My father is a lawyer” (the bandits shuddered), “and my mother’s cousin is a police inspector.”

“Ah,” said Victor, “that is a good employment. The police need to be inspected, especially in Italy.”

“Everywhere!” added Beni.

“Then you could do other things,” continued Martha, encouragingly. “You could be motor men on trolley cars, or clerks in a department store. Some people even become aldermen to earn a living.”

The bandits shook their heads sadly.

“We are not fitted for such work,” said Victor. “Our business is to rob.”

Martha tried to think.

“It is rather hard to get positions in the gas office,” she said, “but you might become politicians.”

“No!” cried Beni, with sudden fierceness; “we must not abandon our high calling [8] our high calling – ( разг. ) наше высокое предназначение . Bandits we have always been, and bandits we must remain!”

“’tis so!” agreed the fat man.

“Even in Chicago there must be people to rob,” remarked Victor, with cheerfulness.

Martha was distressed.

“I think they have all been robbed,” she objected.

“Then we can rob the robbers, for we have experience and talent beyond the ordinary,” said Beni.

“Oh, dear; oh, dear!” moaned the girl; “why did Uncle Walter ever send you here in this chest?”

The bandits became interested.

“That is what we should like to know,” declared Victor, eagerly.

“But no one will ever know, for Uncle Walter was lost while hunting elephants in Africa,” she continued, with conviction.

“Then we must accept our fate and rob to the best of our ability,” said Victor. “So long as we are faithful to our beloved profession we need not be ashamed.”

“’tis so!” cried the fat man.

“Brothers! we will begin now. Let us rob the house we are in.”

“Good!” shouted the others and sprang to their feet.

Beni turned threateningly upon the child.

“Remain here!” he commanded. “If you stir one step your blood will be on your own head!” Then he added, in a gentler voice: “Don’t be afraid; that’s the way all bandits talk to their captives. But of course we wouldn’t hurt a young lady under any circumstances [9] under any circumstances – ( разг. ) ни при каких обстоятельствах .”

“Of course not,” said Victor.

The fat man drew a big knife from his belt and flourished it about his head.

“S’blood!” he ejaculated, fiercely.

“S’bananas!” cried Beni, in a terrible voice.

“Confusion to our foes!” hissed Victor.

And then the three bent themselves nearly double and crept stealthily down the stairway with cocked pistols in their hands and glittering knives between their teeth, leaving Martha trembling with fear and too horrified to even cry for help.

How long she remained alone in the attic she never knew, but finally she heard the catlike tread of the returning bandits and saw them coming up the stairs in single file.

All bore heavy loads of plunder in their arms, and Lugui was balancing a mince pie on the top of a pile of her mother’s best evening dresses. Victor came next with an armful of bric-à-brac [10] bric-à-brac – ( фр. ) старье, хлам , a brass candelabra and the parlor clock. Beni had the family Bible, the basket of silverware from the sideboard, a copper kettle and papa’s fur overcoat.

“Oh, joy!” said Victor, putting down his load; “it is pleasant to rob once more.”

“Oh, ecstasy!” said Beni; but he let the kettle drop on his toe and immediately began dancing around in anguish, while he muttered queer words in the Italian language.

“We have much wealth,” continued Victor, holding the mince pie while Lugui added his spoils to the heap; “and all from one house! This America must be a rich place.”

With a dagger he then cut himself a piece of the pie and handed the remainder to his comrades. Whereupon all three sat upon the floor and consumed the pie while Martha looked on sadly.

“We should have a cave,” remarked Beni; “for we must store our plunder in a safe place. Can you tell us of a secret cave?” he asked Martha.

“There’s a Mammoth cave,” she answered, “but it’s in Kentucky. You would be obliged to ride on the cars a long time to get there.”

The three bandits looked thoughtful and munched their pie silently, but the next moment they were startled by the ringing of the electric doorbell, which was heard plainly even in the remote attic.

“What’s that?” demanded Victor, in a hoarse voice, as the three scrambled to their feet with drawn daggers.

Martha ran to the window and saw it was only the postman, who had dropped a letter in the box and gone away again. But the incident gave her an idea of how to get rid of her troublesome bandits, so she began wringing her hands as if in great distress and cried out:

“It’s the police!”

The robbers looked at one another with genuine alarm, and Lugui asked, tremblingly:

“Are there many of them?”

“A hundred and twelve!” exclaimed Martha, after pretending to count them.

“Then we are lost!” declared Beni; “for we could never fight so many and live.”

“Are they armed?” inquired Victor, who was shivering as if cold.

“Oh, yes,” said she. “They have guns and swords and pistols and axes and – and —”

“And what?” demanded Lugui.

“And cannons!”

The three wicked ones groaned aloud and Beni said, in a hollow voice:

“I hope they will kill us quickly and not put us to the torture. I have been told these Americans are painted Indians, who are bloodthirsty and terrible.”