"Williams, Tad - MONSIEUR VERGALANT'S CANARD" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Tad)

"Still," Gerard replied with magnificent condescension, "you have done
wonderfully well. I could never hope to make such an impression without you."

The rest of the tiny figure emerged, clothed in sweat-stained garments of gray
felt. The little man sat for a moment atop the decapitated duck, then climbed
down its back, seeking toeholds in the intricate metalwork of the pinfeathers
before dropping to the tabletop.

"It was a good night's work, then." Shivering, Henri hurried across the table
toward the bowl of hot water.

"Yes, but we cannot yet allow ourselves to rest." Gerard looked on his brother
fondly as Henri pulled off his loose clothing and clambered into the bowl. "No,
do not be alarmed! Take your bath-- you have earned it. But we do need to
develop some new tricks. Perhaps since it takes in food at one end . . . ? Yes,
that might do it. These people are jaded, and we will need all my most
sophisticated ideas -- and your careful work, which is of course indispensable
-- to keep them interested. That old fop Guineau is very well connected. If we
play our hand correctly, we may soon be demonstrating our magnificent canard for
the King himself!"

Henri lowered himself beneath the surface to wet his hair, then rose again,
spluttering and wiping water from his face. "The King?" He opened his eyes wide.

Gerard smiled, then reached into his pocket and produced a tooth brush. Henri
stood and took it, although it was al most too large for his hands to grasp. As
he scrubbed his back, water splashed from the bowl onto the table top. A few
drops landed near the gilded duck. Gerard blotted them with his sleeve.

"Yes, little brother -- the king! Mother always said I would go far, with my
quick wits and good looks. But I knew that one needs more in life than simply to
be liked. If a man of humble origins wishes to make an impression in this world,
if he wishes to be more than merely comfortable, he must know powerful people --
and he must show them wonders." He nodded toward the table. "Like the duck, our
lovely golden duck. People desire to be . . . astonished."

Henri stepped from the bowl. He accepted his brother's kerchief and began to dry
himself, almost disappearing in its folds.

"Ah, Gerard," he said admiringly. "You always were the clever one."