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- Фрэнк Норрис
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It
was
the
same
night
in
which
Annixter
out
-
watched
the
stars
,
coming
,
at
last
,
to
himself
.
As
the
hours
passed
,
the
two
men
,
far
apart
,
ignoring
each
other
,
waited
for
the
Manifestation
,
—
Annixter
on
the
ranch
,
Vanamee
in
the
garden
.
Prone
upon
his
face
,
under
the
pear
trees
,
his
forehead
buried
in
the
hollow
of
his
arm
,
Vanamee
lay
motionless
.
For
the
last
time
,
raising
his
head
,
he
sent
his
voiceless
cry
out
into
the
night
across
the
multi
-
coloured
levels
of
the
little
valley
,
calling
upon
the
miracle
,
summoning
the
darkness
to
give
Angele
back
to
him
,
resigning
himself
to
the
hallucination
.
He
bowed
his
head
upon
his
arm
again
and
waited
.
The
minutes
passed
.
The
fountain
dripped
steadily
.
Over
the
hills
a
haze
of
saffron
light
foretold
the
rising
of
the
full
moon
.
Nothing
stirred
.
The
silence
was
profound
.
Then
,
abruptly
,
Vanamee
’
s
right
hand
shut
tight
upon
his
wrist
.
There
—
there
it
was
.
It
began
again
,
his
invocation
was
answered
.
Far
off
there
,
the
ripple
formed
again
upon
the
still
,
black
pool
of
the
night
.
No
sound
,
no
sight
;
vibration
merely
,
appreciable
by
some
sublimated
faculty
of
the
mind
as
yet
unnamed
.
Rigid
,
his
nerves
taut
,
motionless
,
prone
on
the
ground
,
he
waited
.
It
advanced
with
infinite
slowness
.
Now
it
passed
through
the
beds
of
violets
,
now
through
the
mignonette
.
A
moment
later
,
and
he
knew
it
stood
among
the
white
iris
.
Then
it
left
those
behind
.
It
was
in
the
splendour
of
the
red
roses
and
carnations
.
It
passed
like
a
moving
star
into
the
superb
abundance
,
the
imperial
opulence
of
the
royal
lilies
.
It
was
advancing
slowly
,
but
there
was
no
pause
.
He
held
his
breath
,
not
daring
to
raise
his
head
.
It
passed
beyond
the
limits
of
the
Seed
ranch
,
and
entered
the
shade
at
the
foot
of
the
hill
below
him
.
Would
it
come
farther
than
this
?
Here
it
had
always
stopped
hitherto
,
stopped
for
a
moment
,
and
then
,
in
spite
of
his
efforts
,
had
slipped
from
his
grasp
and
faded
back
into
the
night
.
But
now
he
wondered
if
he
had
been
willing
to
put
forth
his
utmost
strength
,
after
all
.
Had
there
not
always
been
an
element
of
dread
in
the
thought
of
beholding
the
mystery
face
to
face
?
Had
he
not
even
allowed
the
Vision
to
dissolve
,
the
Answer
to
recede
into
the
obscurity
whence
it
came
?
But
never
a
night
had
been
so
beautiful
as
this
.
It
was
the
full
period
of
the
spring
.
The
air
was
a
veritable
caress
.
The
infinite
repose
of
the
little
garden
,
sleeping
under
the
night
,
was
delicious
beyond
expression
.
It
was
a
tiny
corner
of
the
world
,
shut
off
,
discreet
,
distilling
romance
,
a
garden
of
dreams
,
of
enchantments
.
Below
,
in
the
little
valley
,
the
resplendent
colourations
of
the
million
flowers
,
roses
,
lilies
,
hyacinths
,
carnations
,
violets
,
glowed
like
incandescence
in
the
golden
light
of
the
rising
moon
.
The
air
was
thick
with
the
perfume
,
heavy
with
it
,
clogged
with
it
.
The
sweetness
filled
the
very
mouth
.
The
throat
choked
with
it
.
Overhead
wheeled
the
illimitable
procession
of
the
constellations
.
Underfoot
,
the
earth
was
asleep
.
The
very
flowers
were
dreaming
.
A
cathedral
hush
overlay
all
the
land
,
and
a
sense
of
benediction
brooded
low
,
—
a
divine
kindliness
manifesting
itself
in
beauty
,
in
peace
,
in
absolute
repose
.
It
was
a
time
for
visions
.
It
was
the
hour
when
dreams
come
true
,
and
lying
deep
in
the
grasses
beneath
the
pear
trees
,
Vanamee
,
dizzied
with
mysticism
,
reaching
up
and
out
toward
the
supernatural
,
felt
,
as
it
were
,
his
mind
begin
to
rise
upward
from
out
his
body
.
He
passed
into
a
state
of
being
the
like
of
which
he
had
not
known
before
.
He
felt
that
his
imagination
was
reshaping
itself
,
preparing
to
receive
an
impression
never
experienced
until
now
.
His
body
felt
light
to
him
,
then
it
dwindled
,
vanished
.
He
saw
with
new
eyes
,
heard
with
new
ears
,
felt
with
a
new
heart
.
