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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Тень над Иннсмутом
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- Стр. 28/41
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What
I
saw
--
or
fancied
I
saw
--
was
a
disturbing
suggestion
of
undulant
motion
far
to
the
south
;
a
suggestion
which
made
me
conclude
that
a
very
large
horde
must
be
pouring
out
of
the
city
along
the
level
Ipswich
road
.
The
distance
was
great
and
I
could
distinguish
nothing
in
detail
;
but
I
did
not
at
all
like
the
look
of
that
moving
column
.
It
undulated
too
much
,
and
glistened
too
brightly
in
the
rays
of
the
now
westering
moon
.
There
was
a
suggestion
of
sound
,
too
,
though
the
wind
was
blowing
the
other
way
--
a
suggestion
of
bestial
scraping
and
bellowing
even
worse
than
the
muttering
of
the
parties
I
had
lately
overheard
.
All
sorts
of
unpleasant
conjectures
crossed
my
mind
.
I
thought
of
those
very
extreme
Innsmouth
types
said
to
be
hidden
in
crumbling
,
centuried
warrens
near
the
waterfront
;
I
thought
,
too
,
of
those
nameless
swimmers
I
had
seen
.
Counting
the
parties
so
far
glimpsed
,
as
well
as
those
presumably
covering
other
roads
,
the
number
of
my
pursuers
must
be
strangely
large
for
a
town
as
depopulated
as
Innsmouth
.
Whence
could
come
the
dense
personnel
of
such
a
column
as
I
now
beheld
?
Did
those
ancient
,
unplumbed
warrens
teem
with
a
twisted
,
uncatalogued
,
and
unsuspected
life
?
Or
had
some
unseen
ship
indeed
landed
a
legion
of
unknown
outsiders
on
that
hellish
reef
?
Who
were
they
?
Why
were
they
here
?
And
if
such
a
column
of
them
was
scouring
the
Ipswich
road
,
would
the
patrols
on
the
other
roads
be
likewise
augmented
?
I
had
entered
the
brush-grown
cut
and
was
struggling
along
at
a
very
slow
pace
when
that
damnable
fishy
odour
again
waxed
dominant
.
Had
the
wind
suddenly
changed
eastward
,
so
that
it
blew
in
from
the
sea
and
over
the
town
?
It
must
have
,
I
concluded
,
since
I
now
began
to
hear
shocking
guttural
murmurs
from
that
hitherto
silent
direction
.
There
was
another
sound
,
too
--
a
kind
of
wholesale
,
colossal
flopping
or
pattering
which
somehow
called
up
images
of
the
most
detestable
sort
.
It
made
me
think
illogically
of
that
unpleasantly
undulating
column
on
the
far-off
Ipswich
road
.
And
then
both
stench
and
sounds
grew
stronger
,
so
that
I
paused
shivering
and
grateful
for
the
cut
's
protection
.
It
was
here
,
I
recalled
,
that
the
Rowley
road
drew
so
close
to
the
old
railway
before
crossing
westward
and
diverging
.
Something
was
coming
along
that
road
,
and
I
must
lie
low
till
its
passage
and
vanishment
in
the
distance
.
Thank
heaven
these
creatures
employed
no
dogs
for
tracking
--
though
perhaps
that
would
have
been
impossible
amidst
the
omnipresent
regional
odour
.
Crouched
in
the
bushes
of
that
sandy
cleft
I
felt
reasonably
safe
,
even
though
I
knew
the
searchers
would
have
to
cross
the
track
in
front
of
me
not
much
more
than
a
hundred
yards
away
.
I
would
be
able
to
see
them
,
but
they
could
not
,
except
by
a
malign
miracle
,
see
me
.
All
at
once
I
began
dreading
to
look
at
them
as
they
passed
.
I
saw
the
close
moonlit
space
where
they
would
surge
by
,
and
had
curious
thoughts
about
the
irredeemable
pollution
of
that
space
.
They
would
perhaps
be
the
worst
of
all
Innsmouth
types
--
something
one
would
not
care
to
remember
.
The
stench
waxed
overpowering
,
and
the
noises
swelled
to
a
bestial
babel
of
croaking
,
baying
and
barking
without
the
least
suggestion
of
human
speech
.
Were
these
indeed
the
voices
of
my
pursuers
?
Did
they
have
dogs
after
all
?
So
far
I
had
seen
none
of
the
lower
animals
in
Innsmouth
.
That
flopping
or
pattering
was
monstrous
--
I
could
not
look
upon
the
degenerate
creatures
responsible
for
it
.
I
would
keep
my
eyes
shut
till
the
sound
receded
toward
the
west
.
The
horde
was
very
close
now
--
air
foul
with
their
hoarse
snarlings
,
and
the
ground
almost
shaking
with
their
alien-rhythmed
footfalls
.
My
breath
nearly
ceased
to
come
,
and
I
put
every
ounce
of
will-power
into
the
task
of
holding
my
eyelids
down
.
I
am
not
even
yet
willing
to
say
whether
what
followed
was
a
hideous
actuality
or
only
a
nightmare
hallucination
.
The
later
action
of
the
government
,
after
my
frantic
appeals
,
would
tend
to
confirm
it
as
a
monstrous
truth
;
but
could
not
an
hallucination
have
been
repeated
under
the
quasi-hypnotic
spell
of
that
ancient
,
haunted
,
and
shadowed
town
?
Such
places
have
strange
properties
,
and
the
legacy
of
insane
legend
might
well
have
acted
on
more
than
one
human
imagination
amidst
those
dead
,
stench-cursed
streets
and
huddles
of
rotting
roofs
and
crumbling
steeples
.
Is
it
not
possible
that
the
germ
of
an
actual
contagious
madness
lurks
in
the
depths
of
that
shadow
over
Innsmouth
?
Who
can
be
sure
of
reality
after
hearing
things
like
the
tale
of
old
Zadok
Allen
?
The
government
men
never
found
poor
Zadok
,
and
have
no
conjectures
to
make
as
to
what
became
of
him
.
Where
does
madness
leave
off
and
reality
begin
?
Is
it
possible
that
even
my
latest
fear
is
sheer
delusion
?
