"Death (смерть)!" hissed the Nemedian (прошипел немедиец). "If a wind springs up and blows it back upon us (если поднимется ветер и подует его назад на нас;
hastily [ˈheɪstɪlɪ], vanish [ˈvænɪʃ], entirely [ɪnˈtaɪəlɪ]
Taurus ran back hastily to the wall. Conan glared without understanding. The thick cloud hid the shrubbery, and from it no sound came.
"What is that mist?" the Cimmerian asked uneasily.
"Death!" hissed the Nemedian. "If a wind springs up and blows it back upon us, we must flee over the wall. But no, the wind is still and now it is dissipating. Wait until it vanishes entirely. To breathe it is death."
Presently only yellowish shreds hung ghostly in the air (вскоре лишь желтоватые клочья, похожие на привидения, висели в воздухе;
"They died without a sound (они умерли без звука)!" muttered the Cimmerian (пробормотал киммериец). "Taurus, what was that powder (Таурус, что это был за порошок)?"
ghostly [ˈɡəustlɪ], companion [kəmˈpænjən], powder [ˈpaudə]
Presently only yellowish shreds hung ghostly in the air; then they were gone, and Taurus motioned his companion forward. They stole toward the bushes, and Conan gasped. Stretched out in the shadows lay five great tawny shapes, the fire of their grim eyes dimmed for ever. A sweetish, cloying scent lingered in the atmosphere.
"They died without a sound!" muttered the Cimmerian. "Taurus, what was that powder?"
"It was made from the black lotus (он был изготовлен из черного лотоса), whose blossoms wave in the lost jungles of Khitai (цветы которого колышутся в затерянных джунглях Кхитая), where only the yellow-skulled priests of Yun dwell (где живут лишь желтолицые жрецы Юна). Those blossoms strike dead any who smell of them (эти цветы убивают насмерть всякого, кто понюхает их;
Conan knelt beside the great forms (Конан стал на колени возле громадных фигур;
dead [ded], beyond [bɪˈjɔnd], north [nɔ:Ɵ]
"It was made from the black lotus, whose blossoms wave in the lost jungles of Khitai, where only the yellow-skulled priests of Yun dwell. Those blossoms strike dead any who smell of them."
Conan knelt beside the great forms, assuring himself that they were indeed beyond power of harm. He shook his head; the magic of the exotic lands was mysterious and terrible to the barbarians of the north.
"Why can you not slay the soldiers in the tower in the same way (почему ты не можешь убить солдат в башне таким же способом)?" he asked.