Цвет из иных миров

           Notknowingjusthowhecouldbestbelaunchedonhistales,Ifeignedamatterofbusiness;toldhimofmysurveying,andaskedvaguequestionsaboutthedistrict.HewasfarbrighterandmoreeducatedthanIhadbeenledtothink,andbeforeIknewithadgraspedquiteasmuchofthesubjectasanymanIhadtalkedwithinArkham.HewasnotlikeotherrusticsIhadknowninthesectionswherereservoirsweretobe.Fromhimtherewerenoprotestsatthemilesofoldwoodandfarmlandtobeblottedout,thoughperhapstherewouldhavebeenhadnothishomelainoutsidetheboundsofthefuturelake.Reliefwasallthatheshewed;reliefatthedoomofthedarkancientvalleysthroughwhichhehadroamedallhislife.Theywerebetterunderwaternow—betterunderwatersincethestrangedays.Andwiththisopeninghishuskyvoicesanklow,whilehisbodyleanedforwardandhisrightforefingerbegantopointshakilyandimpressively.

           ItwasthenthatIheardthestory,andastheramblingvoicescrapedandwhisperedonIshiveredagainandagaindespitethesummerday.OftenIhadtorecallthespeakerfromramblings,pieceoutscientificpointswhichheknewonlybyafadingparrotmemoryofprofessors’talk,orbridgeovergapswherehissenseoflogicandcontinuitybrokedown.WhenhewasdoneIdidnotwonderthathismindhadsnappedatrifle,orthatthefolkofArkhamwouldnotspeakmuchoftheblastedheath.Ihurriedbackbeforesunsettomyhotel,unwillingtohavethestarscomeoutabovemeintheopen;andthenextdayreturnedtoBostontogiveupmyposition.