The Shadow over Innsmouth / Морок над Инсмутом. Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт

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СКАЧАТЬ All in the band of the faithful – Order o’ Dagon – an’ the children shud never die, but go back to the Mother Hydra an’ Father Dagon what we all come from onct – Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn-”

      Old Zadok was fast lapsing into stark raving, and I held my breath. Poor old soul – to what pitiful depths of hallucination had his liquor, plus his hatred of the decay, alienage, and disease around him, brought that fertile, imaginative brain! He began to moan now, and tears were coursing down his channelled cheeks into the depths of his beard.

      “God, what I seen senct I was fifteen year’ old – Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin! – the folks as was missin’, an’ them as kilt theirselves – them as told things in Arkham or Ipswich or sech places was all called crazy, like you’re a-callin’ me right naow – but God, what I seen- They’d a kilt me long ago fer what I know, only I’d took the fust an’ secon’ Oaths o’ Dagon offen Obed, so was pertected unlessen a jury of ’em proved I told things knowin’ an’ delib’rit… but I wudn’t take the third Oath – I’d a died ruther’n take that-

      “It got wuss araound Civil War time, when children born senct ’forty-six begun to grow up – some of ’em, that is. I was afeard – never did no pryin’ arter that awful night, an’ never see one of – them – clost to in all my life. That is, never no full-blooded one. I went to the war, an’ ef I’d a had any guts or sense I’d a never come back, but settled away from here. But folks wrote me things wa’n’t so bad. That, I s’pose, was because gov’munt draft men was in taown arter ’sixty-three. Arter the war it was jest as bad agin. People begun to fall off – mills an’ shops shet daown – shippin’ stopped an’ the harbour choked up – railrud give up – but they… they never stopped swimmin’ in an’ aout o’ the river from that cursed reef o’ Satan – an’ more an’ more attic winders got a-boarded up, an’ more an’ more noises was heerd in haouses as wa’n’t s’posed to hev nobody in ’em…

      “Folks aoutside hev their stories abaout us – s’pose you’ve heerd a plenty on ’em, seein’ what questions ye ast – stories abaout things they’ve seed naow an’ then, an’ abaout that queer joolry as still comes in from somewhars an’ ain’t quite all melted up – but nothin’ never gits def’nite. Nobody’ll believe nothin’. They call them gold-like things pirate loot, an’ allaow the Innsmouth folks hez furren blood or is distempered or somethin’. Besides, them that lives here shoo off as many strangers as they kin, an’ encourage the rest not to git very cur’ous, specially raound night time. Beasts balk at the critters – hosses wuss’n mules – but when they got autos that was all right.

      “In ’forty-six Cap’n Obed took a second wife that nobody in the taown never see – some says he didn’t want to, but was made to by them as he’d called in – had three children by her – two as disappeared young, but one gal as looked like anybody else an’ was eddicated in Europe. Obed finally got her married off by a trick to an Arkham feller as didn’t suspect nothin’. But nobody aoutside’ll hev nothin’ to do with Innsmouth folks naow. Barnabas Marsh that runs the refin’ry naow is Obed’s grandson by his fust wife – son of Onesiphorus, his eldest son, but his mother was another o’ them as wa’n’t never seed aoutdoors.

      “Right naow Barnabas is abaout changed. Can’t shet his eyes no more, an’ is all aout o’ shape. They say he still wears clothes, but he’ll take to the water soon. Mebbe he’s tried it already – they do sometimes go daown fer little spells afore they go fer good. Ain’t ben seed abaout in public fer nigh on ten year’. Dun’t know haow his poor wife kin feel – she come from Ipswich, an’ they nigh lynched Barnabas when he courted her fifty odd year’ ago. Obed he died in ’seventy-eight, an’ all the next gen’ration is gone naow – the fust wife’s children dead, an’ the rest… God knows…”

      The sound of the incoming tide was now very insistent, and little by little it seemed to change the old man’s mood from maudlin tearfulness to watchful fear. He would pause now and then to renew those nervous glances over his shoulder or out toward the reef, and despite the wild absurdity of his tale, I could not help beginning to share his vague apprehensiveness. Zadok now grew shriller, and seemed to be trying to whip up his courage with louder speech.

      “Hey, yew, why dun’t ye say somethin’? Haow’d ye like to be livin’ in a taown like this, with everything a-rottin’ an’ a-dyin’, an’ boarded-up monsters crawlin’ an’ bleatin’ an’ barkin’ an’ hoppin’ araoun’ black cellars an’ attics every way ye turn? Hey? Haow’d ye like to hear the haowlin’ night arter night from the churches an’ Order o’ Dagon Hall, an’ know what’s doin’ part o’ the haowlin’? Haow’d ye like to hear what comes from that awful reef every May-Eve an’ Hallowmass? Hey? Think the old man’s crazy, eh? Wal, Sir, let me tell ye that ain’t the wust!”

      Zadok was really screaming now, and the mad frenzy of his voice disturbed me more than I care to own.

      “Curse ye, dun’t set thar a-starin’ at me with them eyes – I tell Obed Marsh he’s in hell, an’ hez got to stay thar! Heh, heh… in hell, I says! Can’t git me – I hain’t done nothin’ nor told nobody nothin’-

      “Oh, you, young feller? Wal, even ef I hain’t told nobody nothin’ yet, I’m a-goin’ to naow! You jest set still an’ listen to me, boy – this is what I ain’t never told nobody… I says I didn’t do no pryin’ arter that night – but I faound things aout jest the same!

      “Yew want to know what the reel horror is, hey? Wal, it’s this – it ain’t what them fish devils hez done, but what they’re a-goin’ to do! They’re a-bringin’ things up aout o’ whar they come from into the taown – ben doin’ it fer years, an’ slackenin’ up lately. Them haouses north o’ the river betwixt Water an’ Main Streets is full of ’em – them devils an’ what they brung – an’ when they git ready… I say, when they git ready… 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 – AHHHH – AH! E’YAAHHHH…”

      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! Git aout o’ here! They seen us – git aout fer your life! Dun’t wait fer nothin’-they know naow- Run fer it – quick – aout o’ this taown-”

      Another heavy wave dashed against the loosening masonry of the bygone wharf, and changed the mad ancient’s whisper to another inhuman and blood-curdling scream.

      “E – YAAHHHH!.. YHAAAAAAA!..”

      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.

      IV

      I СКАЧАТЬ