The Bondman: A New Saga
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Оглавление
Hall Sir Caine. The Bondman: A New Saga
Note
The Bondman
Proem
CHAPTER I. Stephen Orry, Seaman, of Stappen
CHAPTER II. The Mother of a Man
CHAPTER III. The Lad Jason
CHAPTER IV. An Angel in Homespun
CHAPTER V. Little Sunlocks
CHAPTER VI. The Little World of Boy and Girl
CHAPTER VII. The Vow of Stephen Orry
CHAPTER VIII. The Going of Sunlocks
CHAPTER IX. The Coming of Jason
CHAPTER X. The End of Orry
The Book of Michael Sunlocks
CHAPTER I. Red Jason
CHAPTER II. How Greeba was Left with Jason
CHAPTER III. The Wooing of Jason
CHAPTER IV. The Rise of Michael Sunlocks
CHAPTER V. Strong Knots of Love
CHAPTER VI. Esau's Bitter Cry
CHAPTER VII. The Yoke of Jacob
CHAPTER VIII. The Sword of Esau
CHAPTER IX. The Peace Oath
CHAPTER X. The Fairbrothers
CHAPTER XI. The Pardon
CHAPTER XII. The President or the Man
CHAPTER XIII. The Fall of Michael Sunlocks
The Book of Red Jason
CHAPTER I. What Befell Old Adam
CHAPTER II. The Sulphur Mines
CHAPTER III. The Valley of the Shadow of Death
CHAPTER IV. Through the Chasm of All Men
CHAPTER V. The Mount of Laws
CHAPTER VI. The Gospel of Love
CHAPTER VII. The Gospel of Renunciation
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The central date of this story (a Saga in the only sense accepted among Icelanders) is 1800, when Iceland, in the same year as Ireland, lost the last visible sign of her ancient independence as a nation. But, lest the historical incidents that stand as a background to simple human passions should seem to clash at some points, I hasten to say that I have not thought it wise to bind myself to the strict chronology of history, Manx or Icelandic, for some years before and after. I am partly conscious that the Iceland I have described is the Iceland of an earlier era; but Icelanders will not object to my having tried to bring within my too narrow limits much of what is beautiful and noble and firing to enthusiasm in their old habits, customs and laws. To the foolish revolt which occurred at Reykjavik early in this century I have tried to give the dignity of a serious revolution such as, I truly think, Icelanders may yet make in order to become masters in their own house. For a great deal of my data towards this sort of secondary interest I am indebted to many books, Icelandic and English; and for some personal help I owe my thanks to Herra Jon A. Hjaltalin of Modruvellir, who is not, however, to be charged with my mistakes – too numerous I have no doubt. For my descriptions of Icelandic scenes and character I can claim no authority but that of my own observation.
This old folk-tale is half my story – the play of emotions as sweet and light as the footsteps of the shadows that flit over a field of corn.
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"Children might be scarce," she said, and gave a little angry toss of her head.
Still the meaning of what she said had not worked its way through Stephen's slow wit, and he mumbled in his poor blundering fashion:
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