"Bram Stoker - Dracula" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoker Bram)

and by their resonance as they were roughly moved.

When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one corner
of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany,
and spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his horse's head.
Shortly afterwards, I heard the crackling of their whips die away
in the distance.


24 June.--Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself
into his own room. As soon as I dared I ran up the winding stair,
and looked out of the window, which opened South. I thought I
would watch for the Count, for there is something going on.
The Szgany are quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing
work of some kind. I know it, for now and then, I hear a far-away
muffled sound as of mattock and spade, and, whatever it is,
it must be the end of some ruthless villainy.

I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour,
when I saw something coming out of the Count's window.
I drew back and watched carefully, and saw the whole man emerge.
It was a new shock to me to find that he had on the suit of clothes
which I had worn whilst travelling here, and slung over his
shoulder the terrible bag which I had seen the women take away.
There could be no doubt as to his quest, and in my garb, too!
This, then, is his new scheme of evil, that he will allow
others to see me, as they think, so that he may both leave
evidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages posting
my own letters, and that any wickedness which he may do shall
by the local people be attributed to me.

It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am shut up here,
a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of the law which is even
a criminal's right and consolation.

I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time
sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there were
some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight.
They were like the tiniest grains of dust,and they whirled round
and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched
them with a sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole over me.
I leaned back in the embrasure in a more comfortable position,
so that I could enjoy more fully the aerial gambolling.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs
somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight.
Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating moats of dust
to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight.
I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts.
Nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities