"The Man of the Crowd" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

now at length gained ascendancy, and threw over every thing a fitful
and garish lustre. All was dark yet splendid- as that ebony to which
has been likened the style of Tertullian.
The wild effects of the light enchained me to an examination of
individual faces; and although the rapidity with which the world of
light flitted before the window prevented me from casting more than
a glance upon each visage, still it seemed that, in my then peculiar
mental state, I could frequently read, even in that brief interval
of a glance, the history of long years.
With my brow to the glass, I was thus occupied in scrutinizing the
mob, when suddenly there came into view a countenance (that of a
decrepid old man, some sixty-five or seventy years of age)- a
countenance which at once arrested and absorbed my whole attention, on
account of the absolute idiosyncrasy of its expression. Any thing even
remotely resembling that expression I had never seen before. I well
remember that my first thought, upon beholding it, was that Retszch,
had he viewed it, would have greatly preferred it to his own
pictural incarnations of the fiend. As I endeavored, during the
brief minute of my original survey, to form some analysis of the
meaning conveyed, there arose confusedly and paradoxically within my
mind, the ideas of vast mental power, of caution, of penuriousness, of
avarice, of coolness, of malice, of blood-thirstiness, of triumph,
of merriment, of excessive terror, of intense- of supreme despair. I
felt singularly aroused, startled, fascinated. "How wild a history," I
said to myself, "is written within that bosom!" Then came a craving
desire to keep the man in view- to know more of him. Hurriedly putting
on all overcoat, and seizing my hat and cane, I made my way into the
street, and pushed through the crowd in the direction which I had seen
him take; for he had already disappeared. With some little
difficulty I at length came within sight of him, approached, and
followed him closely, yet cautiously, so as not to attract his
attention.
I had now a good opportunity of examining his person. He was short
in stature, very thin, and apparently very feeble. His clothes,
generally, were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now and then,
within the strong glare of a lamp, I perceived that his linen,
although dirty, was of beautiful texture; and my vision deceived me,
or, through a rent in a closely buttoned and evidently second-handed
roquelaire which enveloped him, I caught a glimpse both of a diamond
and of a dagger. These observations heightened my curiosity, and I
resolved to follow the stranger whithersoever he should go.
It was now fully night-fall, and a thick humid fog hung over the
city, soon ending in a settled and heavy rain. This change of
weather had an odd effect upon the crowd, the whole of which was at
once put into new commotion, and overshadowed by a world of umbrellas.
The waver, the jostle, and the hum increased in a tenfold degree.
For my own part I did not much regard the rain- the lurking of an
old fever in my system rendering the moisture somewhat too dangerously
pleasant. Tying a handkerchief about my mouth, I kept on. For half
an hour the old man held his way with difficulty along the great