Цвет из иных миров

           ThreedayslaterNahumlurchedintoAmmi’skitchenintheearlymorning,andintheabsenceofhishoststammeredoutadesperatetaleoncemore,whileMrs.Piercelistenedinaclutchingfright.ItwaslittleMerwinthistime.Hewasgone.Hehadgoneoutlateatnightwithalanternandpailforwater,andhadnevercomeback.He’dbeengoingtopiecesfordays,andhardlyknewwhathewasabout.Screamedateverything.Therehadbeenafranticshriekfromtheyardthen,butbeforethefathercouldgettothedoor,theboywasgone.Therewasnoglowfromthelanternhehadtaken,andofthechildhimselfnotrace.AtthetimeNahumthoughtthelanternandpailweregonetoo;butwhendawncame,andthemanhadploddedbackfromhisall-nightsearchofthewoodsandfields,hehadfoundsomeverycuriousthingsnearthewell.Therewasacrushedandapparentlysomewhatmeltedmassofironwhichhadcertainlybeenthelantern;whileabentbailandtwistedironhoopsbesideit,bothhalf-fused,seemedtohintattheremnantsofthepail.Thatwasall.Nahumwaspastimagining,Mrs.Piercewasblank,andAmmi,whenhehadreachedhomeandheardthetale,couldgivenoguess.Merwinwasgone,andtherewouldbenouseintellingthepeoplearound,whoshunnedallGardnersnow.Nouse,either,intellingthecitypeopleatArkhamwholaughedateverything.Thadwasgone,andnowMerwinwasgone.Somethingwascreepingandcreepingandwaitingtobeseenandfeltandheard.Nahumwouldgosoon,andhewantedAmmitolookafterhiswifeandZenasiftheysurvivedhim.