"Jonathan Stroud - Bartimaeus 3 - Ptolemy's Gate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stroud Jonathan)

Ms. Piper glanced at her notes. "Purip has been observing the response to our war pamphlets
and other propaganda," she said. "Watching the commoners' mood."

"Very well. PuripтАФwhat have you seen? Speak."

The demon bowed slightly. "There is not much new to report. The people are like a herd of
Ganges meadow cattle, half-starved but complacent, unused to change or independent thought.
Yet the war presses on their minds, and I believe discontent is spreading. They read your
pamphlets, just as they buy your newspapers, but they do so without pleasure. It does not
satisfy them."

The magician scowled. "How is this discontent expressed?"

"I detect it in the careful blankness of their features when your police draw near. I see it in the
hardness of their eyes as they pass the recruitment booths. I watch it pile up silently with the
flowers at the doors of the bereaved. Most will not declare it openly, but their anger at the war
and at their government is growing."

"These are just words," Mandrake said. "You give me nothing tangible."

The demon shrugged its shoulders and smiled. "Revolution is not tangibleтАФnot to begin with.
The commoners barely know the concept exists, but they breathe it when they sleep and they
taste it when they drink."

"That's enough riddles. Continue with your work." The magician snapped his fingers; the demon
sprang out of the circle and vanished. Mandrake shook his head. "All but useless. Well, we'll see
what Fritang has to offer."

Another command: the second circle flared into life. In a cloud of incense a new demon appeared
тАФa short, fat gentleman with a round red face and plaintive eyes. It stood blinking agitatedly in
the artificial light. "At last!" it cried. "I have terrible news! It cannot wait another moment!"

Mandrake knew Fritang of old. "As I understand it," he said slowly, "you have been patrolling
the docks, hunting for spies. Does your news have anything to do with this?"

A pause. "Indirectly . . ." the demon said.

Mandrake sighed. "Go on, then."

"I was carrying out your orders," Fritang said, "whenтАФoh, how the memory appalls me!тАФmy
cover was blown. Here is my account. I had been conducting inquiries in a wine shop. As I

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 Jonathan Stroud - Bartimaeus 3 - Ptolemy's Gate

exited, I found myself surrounded by a tribe of street urchins, some scarcely taller than my
knee. I was disguised as a manservant, going about my quiet business. I had made no loud
noises or extravagant gestures. Nevertheless I was singled out and hit by fifteen eggs, mostly
thrown with force."