Цвет из иных миров

           Wordscouldnotconveyit—whenAmmilookedoutagainthehaplessbeastlayhuddledinertonthemoonlitgroundbetweenthesplinteredshaftsofthebuggy.ThatwasthelastofHerotilltheyburiedhimnextday.Butthepresentwasnotimetomourn,foralmostatthisinstantadetectivesilentlycalledattentiontosomethingterribleintheveryroomwiththem.Intheabsenceofthelamplightitwasclearthatafaintphosphorescencehadbeguntopervadetheentireapartment.Itglowedonthebroad-plankedfloorandthefragmentofragcarpet,andshimmeredoverthesashesofthesmall-panedwindows.Itranupanddowntheexposedcorner-posts,coruscatedabouttheshelfandmantel,andinfectedtheverydoorsandfurniture.Eachminutesawitstrengthen,andatlastitwasveryplainthathealthylivingthingsmustleavethathouse.

           Ammishewedthemthebackdoorandthepathupthroughthefieldstotheten-acrepasture.Theywalkedandstumbledasinadream,anddidnotdarelookbacktilltheywerefarawayonthehighground.Theyweregladofthepath,fortheycouldnothavegonethefrontway,bythatwell.Itwasbadenoughpassingtheglowingbarnandsheds,andthoseshiningorchardtreeswiththeirgnarled,fiendishcontours;butthankheaventhebranchesdidtheirworsttwistinghighup.ThemoonwentundersomeveryblackcloudsastheycrossedtherusticbridgeoverChapman’sBrook,anditwasblindgropingfromtheretotheopenmeadows.

           WhentheylookedbacktowardthevalleyandthedistantGardnerplaceatthebottomtheysawafearsomesight.