Холодний дім

The Appointed Time

           "Thisisahorriblehouse,"saysMr.Guppy,shuttingdownthewindow."GivemesomewaterorIshallcutmyhandoff."Hesowashes,andrubs,andscrubs,andsmells,andwashes,thathehasnotlongrestoredhimselfwithaglassofbrandyandstoodsilentlybeforethefirewhenSaintPaul’sbellstrikestwelveandallthoseotherbellsstriketwelvefromtheirtowersofvariousheightsinthedarkair,andintheirmanytones.Whenallisquietagain,thelodgersays,"It’stheappointedtimeatlast.ShallIgo?"Mr.Guppynodsandgiveshima"luckytouch"ontheback,butnotwiththewashedhand,thoughitishisrighthand.Hegoesdownstairs,andMr.Guppytriestocomposehimselfbeforethefireforwaitingalongtime.ButinnomorethanaminuteortwothestairscreakandTonycomesswiftlyback."Haveyougotthem?""Gotthem!No.Theoldman’snotthere."Hehasbeensohorriblyfrightenedintheshortintervalthathisterrorseizestheother,whomakesarushathimandasksloudly,"What’sthematter?""Icouldn’tmakehimhear,andIsoftlyopenedthedoorandlookedin.Andtheburningsmellisthereandthesootisthere,andtheoilisthereandheisnotthere!"Tonyendsthiswithagroan.Mr.Guppytakesthelight.Theygodown,moredeadthanalive,andholdingoneanother,pushopenthedoorofthebackshop.Thecathasretreatedclosetoitandstandssnarling,notatthem,atsomethingonthegroundbeforethefire.Thereisaverylittlefireleftinthegrate,butthereisasmouldering,suffocatingvapourintheroomandadark,greasycoatingonthewallsandceiling.

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Roboto Lora
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