What had seemed a silver plate was in reality a great mirror set in the wall (то, что казалось серебряной пластиной, было в действительности огромным зеркалом, встроенным в стену;
idea [a'd], throat [rut], ejaculate ['aekjulet]
"That is the other exit," said Nabonidus. "And I strongly doubt if the door at the head is bolted. But I have an idea that he who would go through that door had better cut his own throat first. Look into the disk."
What had seemed a silver plate was in reality a great mirror set in the wall. A confusing system of copperlike tubes jutted out from the wall above it, bending down toward it at right angles. Glancing into these tubes, Murilo saw a bewildering array of smaller mirrors. He turned his attention to the larger mirror in the wall, and ejaculated in amazement. Peering over his shoulder, Conan grunted.
They seemed to be looking through a broad window into a well-lighted chamber (казалось, они смотрят через широкое окно в хорошо освещенную комнату). There were broad mirrors on the walls, with velvet hangings between (на стенах были =
couch [kau], ebony ['ebn], grotesque [ru'tesk]
They seemed to be looking through a broad window into a well-lighted chamber. There were broad mirrors on the walls, with velvet hangings between; there were silken couches, chairs of ebony and ivory, and curtained doorways leading off from the chamber. And before one doorway which was not curtained, sat a bulky black object that contrasted grotesquely with the richness of the chamber.
Murilo felt his blood freeze again as he looked at the horror (Мурило почувствовал, как снова кровь застыла у него /в жилах/, когда он глянул на этот кошмар;
"In Mitra's name, Nabonidus (во имя Митры, Набонидус)," gasped Murilo, shaken (задыхаясь, произнес потрясенный Мурило;
involuntarily [n'vlntrl], truculent ['trkjulnt], threat [ret]
Murilo felt his blood freeze again as he looked at the horror which seemed to be staring directly into his eyes. Involuntarily he recoiled from the mirror, while Conan thrust his head truculently forward, till his jaws almost touched the surface, growling some threat or defiance in his own barbaric tongue.
"In Mitra's name, Nabonidus," gasped Murilo, shaken, "what is it?"