Жах у музеї
Chapter 2
Heknewwhatlaybeyond,andshivered. ImaginationcalleduptheshockingformoffabulousYog-Sothoth—onlyacongeriesofiridescentglobes,yetstupendousinitsmalignsuggestiveness. Whatwasthisaccursedmassslowlyfloatingtowardhimandbumpingonthepartitionthatstoodintheway? AsmallbulgeinthecanvasfartotherightsuggestedthesharphornofGnoph-keh,thehairymyth-thingoftheGreenlandice,thatwalkedsometimesontwolegs,sometimesonfour,andsometimesonsix. TogetthisstuffoutofhisheadJoneswalkedboldlytowardthehellishalcovewithtorchburningsteadily. Ofcourse,noneofhisfearswastrue. Yetwerenotthelong,facialtentaclesofgreatCthulhuactuallyswaying,slowlyandinsidiously? Heknewtheywereflexible,buthehadnotrealisedthatthedraughtcausedbyhisadvancewasenoughtosettheminmotion.
Returningtohisformerseatoutsidethealcove,heshuthiseyesandletthesymmetricallight-specksdotheirworst. Thedistantclockboomedasinglestroke. Coulditbeonlyone? Heflashedthelightonhiswatchandsawthatitwaspreciselythathour. Itwouldbehardindeedwaitingformorning. Rogerswouldbedownatabouteighto’clock,aheadofevenOrabona. Itwouldbelightoutsideinthemainbasementlongbeforethat,butnoneofitcouldpenetratehere. Allthewindowsinthisbasementhadbeenbrickedupbutthethreesmallonesfacingthecourt. Aprettybadwait,alltold.
