Тень над Иннсмутом

           Themoonbeamsdidnotreachdownhere,butIcouldjustseemywayaboutwithoutusingtheflashlight.SomeofthewindowsontheGilmanHousesidewerefaintlyglowing,andIthoughtIheardconfusedsoundswithin.WalkingsoftlyovertotheWashingtonStreetsideIperceivedseveralopendoorways,andchosethenearestasmyrouteout.Thehallwayinsidewasblack,andwhenIreachedtheoppositeendIsawthatthestreetdoorwaswedgedimmovablyshut.Resolvedtotryanotherbuilding,Igropedmywaybacktowardthecourtyard,butstoppedshortwhenclosetothedoorway.

           ForoutofanopeneddoorintheGilmanHousealargecrowdofdoubtfulshapeswaspouring—lanternsbobbinginthedarkness,andhorriblecroakingvoicesexchanginglowcriesinwhatwascertainlynotEnglish.Thefiguresmoveduncertainly,andIrealizedtomyreliefthattheydidnotknowwhereIhadgone;butforallthattheysentashiverofhorrorthroughmyframe.Theirfeatureswereindistinguishable,buttheircrouching,shamblinggaitwasabominablyrepellent.Andworstofall,Iperceivedthatonefigurewasstrangelyrobed,andunmistakablysurmountedbyatalltiaraofadesignaltogethertoofamiliar.Asthefiguresspreadthroughoutthecourtyard,Ifeltmyfearsincrease.SupposeIcouldfindnoegressfromthisbuildingonthestreetside?Thefishyodourwasdetestable,andIwonderedIcouldstanditwithoutfainting.Againgropingtowardthestreet,Iopenedadooroffthehallandcameuponanemptyroomwithcloselyshutteredbutsashlesswindows.