"Christopher Priest - The Prestige" - читать интересную книгу автора (Priest Christopher)

"All right."
"Do you have an identical twin brother? Or did you have one who died when you were very
young?"
I could not help my startled reaction. I put down my glass, before I spilled any more, and
mopped at the liquid that had splashed on to my legs.
"Why do you ask that?" I said.
"Do you? Did you?"
"I don't know. I think I did, but I've never been able to find him. I mean . . . I'm not sure."
"I think you've given me the answer I was expecting," she said. "But not the one I was hoping
for."

* * *

I said, "If this is something to do with the Borden family, I might as well tell you that I know
nothing about them. Do you realize that?"
"Yes, but you _are_ a Borden."
"I was, but it doesn't mean anything to me." I suddenly had a glimpse of this young woman's
family, stretching back more than three hundred years in an unbroken sequence of generations:
same name, same house, same everything. My own family roots went back to the age of three. "I
don't think you can appreciate what being adopted means. I was just a little boy, a toddler, and
my father dumped me out of his life. If I spent the rest of my own life grieving about that, I'd have


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time for nothing else. Long ago, I sealed it off because I had to. I've a new family now."
"Your brother is still a Borden, though."
Whenever she mentioned my brother I felt a pang of guilt, concern and curiosity. It was as if
she used him as a way of getting under my defences. All my life the existence of my brother had
been my secret certainty, a part of myself that I kept completely private. Yet here was this
stranger speaking of him as if she knew him.
"Why are you interested in this?" I said.
"When you first heard of me, saw my name, did it mean anything to you?"
"No."
"Have you ever heard of Rupert Angier?"
"No."
"Or The Great Danton, the illusionist?"
"No. My only interest in my former family is that through them I might one day be able to trace
my twin brother."
She had been sipping quickly at her glass of whiskey while we spoke, and now it was empty.
She leant forward to mix another drink, and tried to pour more into my glass. Knowing I was going
to have to drive later, I pulled my glass back before she could completely fill it.
She said, "I think the fate of your brother is connected with something that happened about a
hundred years ago. One of my ancestors, Rupert Angier. You say you've never heard of him, and
there's no reason why you should, but he was a stage magician at the end of the last century. He
worked as The Great Danton, because in those days all the magicians used grandiose stage
names. He was the victim of a series of vicious attacks by a man called Alfred Borden, your
great-grandfather, who was also an illusionist. You say you know nothing about this?"
"Only the book. I assume you sent it."
She nodded. "They had this feud going, and it went on for years. They were constantly
attacking each other, usually by interfering with the other one's stage show. The story of the feud