Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 1
Wasittrueabouttheblackdogthatwalkedthereatnightwitheyesasbigascarriage-lamps?Theysaiditwastheghostofamurderer.Alongshiveroffearflowedoverhisbody.Hesawthedarkentrancehallofthecastle.Oldservantsinolddresswereintheironing-roomabovethestaircase.Itwaslongago.Theoldservantswerequiet.Therewasafirethere,butthehallwasstilldark.Afigurecameupthestaircasefromthehall.Heworethewhitecloakofamarshal;hisfacewaspaleandstrange;heheldhishandpressedtohisside.Helookedoutofstrangeeyesattheoldservants.Theylookedathimandsawtheirmaster’sfaceandcloakandknewthathehadreceivedhisdeath-wound.Butonlythedarkwaswheretheylooked:onlydarksilentair.Theirmasterhadreceivedhisdeath-woundonthebattlefieldofPraguefarawayoverthesea.Hewasstandingonthefield;hishandwaspressedtohisside;hisfacewaspaleandstrangeandheworethewhitecloakofamarshal.
Ohowcoldandstrangeitwastothinkofthat!Allthedarkwascoldandstrange.Therewerepalestrangefacesthere,greateyeslikecarriage-lamps.Theyweretheghostsofmurderers,thefiguresofmarshalswhohadreceivedtheirdeath-woundonbattlefieldsfarawayoverthesea.Whatdidtheywishtosaythattheirfacesweresostrange?
VISIT,WEBESEECHTHEE,OLORD,THISHABITATIONANDDRIVEAWAYFROMITALL...
Goinghomefortheholidays!Thatwouldbelovely:thefellowshadtoldhim.
