"Gene Wolfe - Detective of dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

the Hauptstrasse at a point contained by that interval. I needed to know no
more.
Very early the next morning I took up my post at the intersection. If my
man were still alive after the fusillade Count von V____ fired at him each
night, it seemed certain that he would appear at this spot within a few days,
and I am hardened to waiting. I smoked cigarettes while I watched the
citizens of I____ walk up and down before me. When an hour had passed,
I bought a newspaper from a vendor, and stole a few glances at its pages
when foot traffic was light.
Gradually I became aware that I was watched - we boast of reason, but
there are senses over which reason holds no authority. I did not know
where my watcher was, yet I felt his gaze on me, whichever way I turned.
So, I thought, you know me, my friend. Will I too dream now? What has
attracted your attention to a mere foreigner, a stranger, waiting for
who-knows-what at this corner? Have you been talking to Frфulein A____?
Or to someone who has spoken with her?
Without appearing to do so; I looked up and down both streets in search
of another lounger like myself. There was no one - not a drowsing
grandfather, not a woman or a child, not even a dog. Certainly no tall man
with a forked beard and piercing eyes. The windows then - I studied them
all, looking for some movement in a dark room behind a seemingly innocent
opening. Nothing.
Only the buildings behind me remained. I crossed to the opposite side of
the Hauptstrasse and looked once more. Then I laughed.
They must have thought me mad, all those dour burghers, for I fairly
doubled over, spitting my cigarette to the sidewalk and clasping my hands
to my waist for fear my belt would burst. The presumption, the impudence,
the brazen insolence of the fellow! The stupidity, the wonderful stupidity of
myself, who had not recognized his old stories! For the remainder of my life
now, I could accept any case with pleasure, pursue the most inept criminal
with zest, knowing that there was always a chance he might outwit such an
idiot as I.
For the Dream-Master had set up His own picture, and full-length and in
the most gorgeous colors, in His window. Choking and spluttering I saluted
it, and then, still filled with laughter, I crossed the street once more and
went inside, where I knew I would find Him. A man awaited me there - not
the one I sought, but one who understood Whom it was I had come for, and
knew as well as I that His capture was beyond any thief-taker's power. I
knelt, and there, though not to the satisfaction I suppose of Baron H____,
Frфulein A____, Herr R____, and the Count and Countess von V____, I
destroyed the Dream-Master as He has been sacrificed so often,
devouring His white, wheaten flesh that we might all possess life without
end.
Dear people, dream on.