"Mervyn Peake - Danse Macabre" - читать интересную книгу автора (Peake Mervyn)

distance in the few seconds it took me to reach the window. But then, some
movement in the semi-darkness caused me to look down, and there it was,
standing on the narrow gravel path immediately below me. Its back was to the
house and its sleeves were raised a little on either side, empty though they
were.
Being exactly above the headless creature I found that I was forced to see
down into the horrible darkness of that circular pit whose outward rim was
formed by the stiff, white collar. As I started, nauseated, it began to skim, or
glideтАФtowards the lawn; it is hard to find a word that can adequately suggest
the way it propelled itself across the ground, the tailcoat unnaturally upright,
and the trouser-ends appearing almost to trail the grass, although they did not
really touch the ground.
That I was dressed, I think, gave me courage, for, in spite of my inner terror,
I ran down the stairs and out of the house and was just in time to see the
apparition about to disappear into the woods beyond the lawn. I noted, as I ran,
the spot at which it entered the forest, and fearing that I might lose the unholy
thing, I raced feverishly across the widespread lawn.
It was well that I did this for on reaching the margin of the oak wood, I
caught a glimpse of the high white collar and the gleam of cuffs away ahead and
to the right.
Of course I knew the forest well enough by daylight but by night it seemed a
very different place, yet I followed as best I could, stumbling at times and all
but losing sight of the floating thing as it flitted through the trees ahead of me.
There seemed to be no hesitancy in its progress and it occurred to me that,
judging by the direction it was taking, it must very soon be coming upon the
first of those long rides that ran from east to west across the forest.
And this was so, for it was only a few moments later that the foliage cleared
above my head and I found myself standing on the verge of the long grassy
avenue of oaks and not a hundred paces to my left I saw my bodiless vesture.
Bodiless it may have been, but it did not appear so in spite of the lack of
feet or hands or head. For it became obvious that the garments were in a high
state of agitation, turning this way and that, sometimes circling an oak tree on
the far side of the avenue, sometimes floating an inch above the ground with the
shoulders stooping forwards, almost as though in spite of its heedlessness it
peered down the long dwindling perspective of the forest ride.
Then, of a sudden, my heart leapt to my mouth; for my evening dress (its
cuffs and collar gleaming in the dim light) had begun to tremble violently, and
turning my eyes in the direction in which the suit was facing, I saw, gliding
towards us from a great way off, an ice-blue evening dress.
 Nearer and nearer it came, nearer and nearer, floating with an effortless
beauty, the long skirt trailing the ground. But there were no feet, and there were
no amis or hands. And there was no head and yet there was something familiar
about it as at last it reached my black attire and as I saw the sleeve of my coat
pass itself around the ice-blue silken waist of the hollow lady and a dance
began which chilled my blood, for although the movements were slow, almost
leisurely, yet the headless thing was vibrating like the plucked string of a
fiddle.
In contrast to this horrible vacillation, the evening dress of the other dancer
moved in a strangely frozen manner made all the more horrible by its lack of
arms. As I watched I began to feel a horrible sickness in my body and my knees