Читаем Заявление Рэндольфа Картера [with w_cat] полностью

[24] Over the valley's rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapors that seemed to emanate from unheard of catacombs, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique slabs, urns, cenotaphs, and mausoleum facades; all crumbling, moss-grown, and moisture-stained, and partly concealed by the gross luxuriance of the unhealthy vegetation.

[25] My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible necropolis concerns the act of pausing with Warren before a certain half– obliterated sepulcher and of throwing down some burdens which we seemed to have been carrying.

[26] I now observed that I had with me an electric lantern and two spades, whilst my companion was supplied with a similar lantern and a portable telephone outfit.

[27] No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to us; and without delay we seized our spades and commenced to clear away the grass, weeds, and drifted earth from the flat, archaic mortuary.

[28] After uncovering the entire surface, which consisted of three immense granite slabs, we stepped back some distance to survey the charnel scene; and Warren appeared to make some mental calculations.

[29] Then he returned to the sepulcher, and using his spade as a lever, sought to pry up the slab lying nearest to a stony ruin which may have been a monument in its day.

[30] He did not succeed, and motioned to me to come to his assistance. Finally our combined strength loosened the stone, which we raised and tipped to one side.

[31] The removal of the slab revealed a black aperture, from which rushed an effluence of miasmal gases so nauseous that we started back in horror.

[32] After an interval, however, we approached the pit again, and found the exhalations less unbearable.

[33] Our lanterns disclosed the top of a flight of stone steps, dripping with some detestable ichor of the inner earth, and bordered by moist walls encrusted with niter.

[34] And now for the first time my memory records verbal discourse, Warren addressing me at length in his mellow tenor voice; a voice singularly unperturbed by our awesome surroundings.

[35] "I'm sorry to have to ask you to stay on the surface," he said, "but it would be a crime to let anyone with your frail nerves go down there.

[36] You can't imagine, even from what you have read and from what I've told you, the things I shall have to see and do. It's fiendish work, Carter, and I doubt if any man without ironclad sensibilities could ever see it through and come up alive and sane.

[37] I don't wish to offend you, and Heaven knows I'd be glad enough to have you with me; but the responsibility is in a certain sense mine, and I couldn't drag a bundle of nerves like you down to probable death or madness.

[38] I tell you, you can't imagine what the thing is really like!

[39] But I promise to keep you informed over the telephone of every move—you see I've enough wire here to reach to the center of the earth and back!"

[40] I can still hear, in memory, those coolly spoken words; and I can still remember my remonstrances.

[41] I seemed desperately anxious to accompany my friend into those sepulchral depths, yet he proved inflexibly obdurate.

[42] At one time he threatened to abandon the expedition if I remained insistent; a threat which proved effective, since he alone held the key to the thing.

[43] All this I can still remember, though I no longer know what manner of thing we sought.

After he had obtained my reluctant acquiescence in his design, Warren picked up the reel of wire and adjusted the instruments.

[44] At his nod I took one of the latter and seated myself upon an aged, discolored gravestone close by the newly uncovered aperture.

[45] Then he shook my hand, shouldered the coil of wire, and disappeared within that indescribable ossuary.

[46] For a minute I kept sight of the glow of his lantern, and heard the rustle of the wire as he laid it down after him; but the glow soon disappeared abruptly, as if a turn in the stone staircase had been encountered, and the sound died away almost as quickly.

[47] I was alone, yet bound to the unknown depths by those magic strands whose insulated surface lay green beneath the struggling beams of that waning crescent moon.

[48] I constantly consulted my watch by the light of my electric lantern, and listened with feverish anxiety at the receiver of the telephone; but for more than a quarter of an hour heard nothing.

[49] Then a faint clicking came from the instrument, and I called down to my friend in a tense voice.

[50] Apprehensive as I was, I was nevertheless unprepared for the words which came up from that uncanny vault in accents more alarmed and quivering than any I had heard before from Harley Warren.

[51] He who had so calmly left me a little while previously, now called from below in a shaky whisper more portentous than the loudest shriek:

[52] "God! If you could see what I am seeing!"

Перейти на страницу:

Все книги серии Рэндольф Картер

Похожие книги

Агония и возрождение романтизма
Агония и возрождение романтизма

Романтизм в русской литературе, вопреки тезисам школьной программы, – явление, которое вовсе не исчерпывается художественными опытами начала XIX века. Михаил Вайскопф – израильский славист и автор исследования «Влюбленный демиург», послужившего итоговым стимулом для этой книги, – видит в романтике непреходящую основу русской культуры, ее гибельный и вместе с тем живительный метафизический опыт. Его новая книга охватывает столетний период с конца романтического золотого века в 1840-х до 1940-х годов, когда катастрофы XX века оборвали жизни и литературные судьбы последних русских романтиков в широком диапазоне от Булгакова до Мандельштама. Первая часть работы сфокусирована на анализе литературной ситуации первой половины XIX столетия, вторая посвящена творчеству Афанасия Фета, третья изучает различные модификации романтизма в предсоветские и советские годы, а четвертая предлагает по-новому посмотреть на довоенное творчество Владимира Набокова. Приложением к книге служит «Пропащая грамота» – семь небольших рассказов и стилизаций, написанных автором.

Михаил Яковлевич Вайскопф

Языкознание, иностранные языки