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- Джон Уиндем
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- День триффидов
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- Стр. 179/223
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On
the
night
of
the
green
flashes
—
of
the
comet
you
would
say
If
you
were
one
who
still
believes
in
that
comet
—
there
had
been
two
other
guests
,
Joan
and
Ted
Danton
,
spending
a
week
’
s
holiday
there
.
All
five
of
them
had
gone
Out
into
the
garden
to
watch
the
display
.
In
the
morning
all
five
awoke
to
a
world
that
was
perpetually
dark
.
First
they
had
tried
to
telephone
;
when
they
found
that
impossible
they
waited
hopefully
for
the
arrival
of
the
daily
help
.
She
,
too
,
failing
them
,
Ted
had
volunteered
to
try
to
find
Out
what
had
happened
.
Dennis
would
have
accompanied
him
but
for
his
wife
’
s
almost
hysterical
state
.
Ted
,
therefore
,
had
set
out
alone
.
He
did
not
come
back
.
At
some
time
late
in
the
day
,
and
without
saying
a
word
to
anyone
,
Joan
had
slipped
off
,
presumably
to
try
to
find
her
husband
.
She
,
too
,
disappeared
completely
.
Dennis
had
kept
track
of
time
by
touching
the
hands
of
the
clock
.
By
late
afternoon
it
was
impossible
to
sit
any
longer
doing
nothing
.
He
wanted
to
try
to
get
down
to
the
village
.
Both
the
women
bad
objected
to
that
.
Because
of
Mary
’
s
state
he
had
yielded
,
and
Joyce
determined
to
try
.
She
went
to
the
door
and
began
to
feel
her
way
with
a
stick
outstretched
before
her
.
She
was
barely
over
the
threshold
when
something
fell
with
a
swish
across
her
left
hand
,
burning
like
a
hot
wire
.
She
jumped
back
with
a
cry
and
collapsed
in
the
hall
,
where
Dennis
had
found
her
.
Luckily
she
was
conscious
,
and
able
to
moan
of
the
pain
in
her
hand
.
Dennis
,
feeling
the
raised
weal
,
had
guessed
it
for
what
it
was
.
In
spite
of
their
blindness
,
ho
and
Mary
had
somehow
contrived
to
apply
hot
fomentations
,
she
heating
the
kettle
while
he
put
on
a
tourniquet
and
did
his
best
to
suck
out
the
poison
.
After
that
they
had
had
to
carry
her
up
to
bed
,
where
she
stayed
for
several
days
while
the
effect
of
the
poison
wore
off
.
Meanwhile
Dennis
had
made
tests
,
first
at
the
front
and
then
at
the
back
of
the
house
.
With
the
door
slightly
open
,
he
cautiously
thrust
out
a
broom
at
head
level
.
Each
time
there
was
the
whistle
of
a
sting
,
and
he
felt
the
broom
handle
tremble
slightly
in
his
grip
.
At
one
of
the
garden
windows
the
same
thing
happened
;
the
others
seemed
to
be
clear
.
He
would
have
tried
to
leave
by
one
of
them
but
for
Mary
’
s
distress
.
She
was
sure
that
if
there
were
triffids
close
round
the
house
there
must
be
others
about
,
and
would
not
let
him
take
the
risk
.
Luckily
they
had
food
enough
to
last
them
some
time
,
though
it
was
difficult
to
prepare
it
.
Also
,
Joyce
,
in
spite
of
a
high
temperature
,
appeared
to
be
holding
her
own
against
the
triffid
poison
,
so
that
the
situation
was
less
urgent
than
it
might
have
been
.
Most
of
the
next
day
Dennis
devoted
to
contriving
a
kind
of
helmet
for
himself
.
He
had
wire
net
only
of
large
mesh
,
so
that
he
had
to
construct
it
of
several
layers
overlapped
and
tied
together
.
It
took
him
some
time
,
but
,
equipped
with
this
and
a
pair
of
heavy
gauntlet
gloves
,
he
was
able
to
start
Out
for
the
village
late
in
the
day
.
A
triffid
had
struck
at
him
before
he
was
three
paces
away
from
the
house
.
He
groped
for
it
until
he
found
it
,
and
twisted
its
stem
for
it
,
A
minute
or
two
later
another
sting
thudded
across
his
helmet
He
could
not
find
that
triffid
to
grapple
with
it
,
though
it
made
half
a
dozen
slashes
before
it
gave
up
.
He
found
his
way
to
the
tool
shed
,
and
thence
across
to
the
lane
,
encumbered
now
with
three
large
balls
of
gardening
twine
which
he
payed
out
as
he
went
,
to
guide
him
back
.
Several
times
in
the
lane
more
stings
whipped
at
him
.
It
took
an
immensely
long
time
for
him
to
cover
the
mile
or
so
to
the
village
,
and
before
he
reached
it
his
supply
of
twine
had
given
out
.
And
all
the
way
,
he
walked
and
stumbled
through
a
silence
so
complete
that
it
frightened
him
.
From
time
to
time
he
would
stop
and
call
,
but
no
one
answered
.
More
than
once
he
was
afraid
that
he
had
lost
his
way
,
but
when
his
feet
discovered
a
better
-
laid
road
surface
he
knew
where
he
was
and
was
able
to
confirm
it
by
locating
a
signpost
.
He
groped
his
way
farther
on
.
After
a
seemingly
vast
distance
he
had
become
,
aware
that
his
footsteps
were
sounding
differently
:
their
fall
had
a
faint
echo
.
Making
to
one
side
,
he
found
a
footpath
and
then
a
wall
.
A
little
farther
along
he
discovered
a
postbox
let
into
the
brickwork
,
and
knew
that
he
must
be
actually
in
the
village
at
last
.
He
called
out
once
more
.
A
voice
,
a
woman
’
s
voice
,
called
back
,
but
it
was
some
distance
ahead
,
and
the
words
were
indistinguishable
.
He
called
again
,
and
began
to
move
toward
it
.
Its
reply
was
suddenly
cut
off
by
a
scream
.
After
that
there
was
silence
again
.
Only
then
,
and
still
half
incredulously
,
did
he
realize
the
village
was
in
no
better
plight
than
his
own
household
.
He
sat
down
on
the
grassed
verge
of
the
path
to
think
out
what
he
should
do
.
By
the
feeling
in
the
air
he
guessed
that
night
had
come
.
He
must
have
been
away
fully
four
hours
—
and
there
was
nothing
to
do
but
go
back
.
All
the
same
,
there
was
no
reason
why
he
should
go
back
empty
-
handed
.
.
.
With
his
stick
he
rapped
his
way
along
the
wall
until
it
rang
on
one
of
the
tin
-
plate
advertisements
which
adorned
the
village
shop
.
Three
times
in
the
last
fifty
or
sixty
yards
stings
had
slapped
on
his
helmet
.
Another
struck
as
he
opened
the
gate
,
and
he
tipped
over
a
body
lying
on
the
path
.
A
man
’
s
body
,
quite
cold
.
