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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"The Thirty-Nine Steps"

Now it was flying very low, and now the observer
on board caught sight of me. I could see one of the two occupants
examining me through glasses.
Suddenly it began to rise in swift whorls, and the next I knew
it was speeding eastward again till it became a speck in the
blue morning.
That made me do some savage thinking. My enemies had located
me, and the next thing would be a cordon round me. I didn't know
what force they could command, but I was certain it would be
sufficient. The aeroplane had seen my bicycle, and would conclude
that I would try to escape by the road. In that case there might be a
chance on the moors to the right or left. I wheeled the machine a
hundred yards from the highway, and plunged it into a moss-hole,
where it sank among pond-weed and water-buttercups. Then I
climbed to a knoll which gave me a view of the two valleys.
Nothing was stirring on the long white ribbon that threaded them.
I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat.
As the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had
the fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I
would have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The
free moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the
breath of a dungeon.
I tossed a coin--heads right, tails left--and it fell heads, so I
turned to the north.


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