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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Тень над Иннсмутом
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- Стр. 19/41
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Them
haouses
north
o
'
the
river
be-twixt
Water
an
'
Main
Streets
is
full
of
'em
--
them
devils
an
'
what
they
brung
--
an
'
when
they
git
ready
...
I
say
,
when
they
git
...
ever
hear
tell
of
a
shoggoth
?
"
Hey
,
d'ye
hear
me
?
I
tell
ye
I
know
what
them
things
be
--
I
seen
'em
one
night
when
...
eh-ahhh-ah
!
e
'
yahhh
...
"
The
hideous
suddenness
and
inhuman
frightfulness
of
the
old
man
's
shriek
almost
made
me
faint
.
His
eyes
,
looking
past
me
toward
the
malodorous
sea
,
were
positively
starting
from
his
head
;
while
his
face
was
a
mask
of
fear
worthy
of
Greek
tragedy
.
His
bony
claw
dug
monstrously
into
my
shoulder
,
and
he
made
no
motion
as
I
turned
my
head
to
look
at
whatever
he
had
glimpsed
.
There
was
nothing
that
I
could
see
.
Only
the
incoming
tide
,
with
perhaps
one
set
of
ripples
more
local
than
the
long-flung
line
of
breakers
.
But
now
Zadok
was
shaking
me
,
and
I
turned
back
to
watch
the
melting
of
that
fear-frozen
face
into
a
chaos
of
twitching
eyelids
and
mumbling
gums
.
Presently
his
voice
came
back
--
albeit
as
a
trembling
whisper
.
"
Git
aout
o
'
here
!
Get
aout
o
'
here
!
They
seen
us
--
git
aout
fer
your
life
!
Du
n't
wait
fer
nothin
'
--
they
know
naow
--
Run
fer
it
--
quick
--
aout
o
'
this
taown
--
"
Another
heavy
wave
dashed
against
the
loosing
masonry
of
the
bygone
wharf
,
and
changed
the
mad
ancient
's
whisper
to
another
inhuman
and
blood-curdling
scream
.
"
E-yaahhhh
!
...
Yheaaaaaa
!
.
.
"
Before
I
could
recover
my
scattered
wits
he
had
relaxed
his
clutch
on
my
shoulder
and
dashed
wildly
inland
toward
the
street
,
reeling
northward
around
the
ruined
warehouse
wall
.
I
glanced
back
at
the
sea
,
but
there
was
nothing
there
.
And
when
I
reached
Water
Street
and
looked
along
it
toward
the
north
there
was
no
remaining
trace
of
Zadok
Allen
.
I
can
hardly
describe
the
mood
in
which
I
was
left
by
this
harrowing
episode
--
an
episode
at
once
mad
and
pitiful
,
grotesque
and
terrifying
.
The
grocery
boy
had
prepared
me
for
it
,
yet
the
reality
left
me
none
the
less
bewildered
and
disturbed
.
Puerile
though
the
story
was
,
old
Zadok
's
insane
earnestness
and
horror
had
communicated
to
me
a
mounting
unrest
which
joined
with
my
earlier
sense
of
loathing
for
the
town
and
its
blight
of
intangible
shadow
.
Later
I
might
sift
the
tale
and
extract
some
nucleus
of
historic
allegory
;
just
now
I
wished
to
put
it
out
of
my
head
.
The
hour
grown
perilously
late
--
my
watch
said
7:15
,
and
the
Arkham
bus
left
Town
Square
at
eight
--
so
I
tried
to
give
my
thoughts
as
neutral
and
practical
a
cast
as
possible
,
meanwhile
walking
rapidly
through
the
deserted
streets
of
gaping
roofs
and
leaning
houses
toward
the
hotel
where
I
had
checked
my
valise
and
would
find
my
bus
.
