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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 219/416
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For
a
moment
,
the
life
-
circles
of
these
two
men
,
of
so
widely
differing
characters
,
touched
each
other
,
there
in
the
silence
of
the
night
under
the
stars
.
Then
silently
Vanamee
withdrew
,
going
on
his
way
,
wondering
at
the
trouble
that
,
like
himself
,
drove
this
hardheaded
man
of
affairs
,
untroubled
by
dreams
,
out
into
the
night
to
brood
over
an
empty
land
.
Then
speedily
he
forgot
all
else
.
The
material
world
drew
off
from
him
.
Reality
dwindled
to
a
point
and
vanished
like
the
vanishing
of
a
star
at
moonrise
.
Earthly
things
dissolved
and
disappeared
,
as
a
strange
,
unnamed
essence
flowed
in
upon
him
.
A
new
atmosphere
for
him
pervaded
his
surroundings
.
He
entered
the
world
of
the
Vision
,
of
the
Legend
,
of
the
Miracle
,
where
all
things
were
possible
.
He
stood
at
the
gate
of
the
Mission
garden
.
Above
him
rose
the
ancient
tower
of
the
Mission
church
.
Through
the
arches
at
its
summit
,
where
swung
the
Spanish
queen
’
s
bells
,
he
saw
the
slow
-
burning
stars
.
The
silent
bats
,
with
flickering
wings
,
threw
their
dancing
shadows
on
the
pallid
surface
of
the
venerable
facade
.
Not
the
faintest
chirring
of
a
cricket
broke
the
silence
.
The
bees
were
asleep
.
In
the
grasses
,
in
the
trees
,
deep
in
the
calix
of
punka
flower
and
magnolia
bloom
,
the
gnats
,
the
caterpillars
,
the
beetles
,
all
the
microscopic
,
multitudinous
life
of
the
daytime
drowsed
and
dozed
.
Not
even
the
minute
scuffling
of
a
lizard
over
the
warm
,
worn
pavement
of
the
colonnade
disturbed
the
infinite
repose
,
the
profound
stillness
.
Only
within
the
garden
,
the
intermittent
trickling
of
the
fountain
made
itself
heard
,
flowing
steadily
,
marking
off
the
lapse
of
seconds
,
the
progress
of
hours
,
the
cycle
of
years
,
the
inevitable
march
of
centuries
.
At
one
time
,
the
doorway
before
which
Vanamee
now
stood
had
been
hermetically
closed
.
But
he
,
himself
,
had
long
since
changed
that
.
He
stood
before
it
for
a
moment
,
steeping
himself
in
the
mystery
and
romance
of
the
place
,
then
raising
he
latch
,
pushed
open
the
gate
,
entered
,
and
closed
it
softly
behind
him
.
He
was
in
the
cloister
garden
.
The
stars
were
out
,
strewn
thick
and
close
in
the
deep
blue
of
the
sky
,
the
milky
way
glowing
like
a
silver
veil
.
Ursa
Major
wheeled
gigantic
in
the
north
.
The
great
nebula
in
Orion
was
a
whorl
of
shimmering
star
dust
.
Venus
flamed
a
lambent
disk
of
pale
saffron
,
low
over
the
horizon
.
From
edge
to
edge
of
the
world
marched
the
constellations
,
like
the
progress
of
emperors
,
and
from
the
innumerable
glory
of
their
courses
a
mysterious
sheen
of
diaphanous
light
disengaged
itself
,
expanding
over
all
the
earth
,
serene
,
infinite
,
majestic
.
The
little
garden
revealed
itself
but
dimly
beneath
the
brooding
light
,
only
half
emerging
from
the
shadow
.
The
polished
surfaces
of
the
leaves
of
the
pear
trees
winked
faintly
back
the
reflected
light
as
the
trees
just
stirred
in
the
uncertain
breeze
.
A
blurred
shield
of
silver
marked
the
ripples
of
the
fountain
.
Under
the
flood
of
dull
blue
lustre
,
the
gravelled
walks
lay
vague
amid
the
grasses
,
like
webs
of
white
satin
on
the
bed
of
a
lake
.
Against
the
eastern
wall
the
headstones
of
the
graves
,
an
indistinct
procession
of
grey
cowls
ranged
themselves
.
Vanamee
crossed
the
garden
,
pausing
to
kiss
the
turf
upon
Angele
’
s
grave
.
Then
he
approached
the
line
of
pear
trees
,
and
laid
himself
down
in
their
shadow
,
his
chin
propped
upon
his
hands
,
his
eyes
wandering
over
the
expanse
of
the
little
valley
that
stretched
away
from
the
foot
of
the
hill
upon
which
the
Mission
was
built
.
Once
again
he
summoned
the
Vision
.
Once
again
he
conjured
up
the
Illusion
.
Once
again
,
tortured
with
doubt
,
racked
with
a
deathless
grief
,
he
craved
an
Answer
of
the
night
.
Once
again
,
mystic
that
he
was
,
he
sent
his
mind
out
from
him
across
the
enchanted
sea
of
the
Supernatural
.
Hope
,
of
what
he
did
not
know
,
roused
up
within
him
.
Surely
,
on
such
a
night
as
this
,
the
hallucination
must
define
itself
.
Surely
,
the
Manifestation
must
be
vouchsafed
.
