"Тед Чан. Seventy-Two Letters (72 буквы, Рассказ) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

piracy, and any association with them could permanently blacken his
reputation.


"Mr. Stratton."

Stratton looked up. A small, wiry man, plainly dressed, stood before
him. "Yes; do I know you, sir?"

"No, sir. My name is Davies. IТm in the employ of Lord Fieldhurst."
He handed Stratton a card bearing the Fieldhurst crest.
Edward Maitland, third earl of Fieldhurst and a noted zoologist and
comparative anatomist, was President of the Royal Society. Stratton had
heard him speak during sessions of the Royal Society, but they had never
been introduced. "What can I do for you?"
"Lord Fieldhurst would like to speak with you, at your earliest
convenience, regarding your recent work."
Stratton wondered how the earl had learned of his work. "Why did you
not call on me at my office?"
"Lord Fieldhurst prefers privacy in this matter." Stratton raised his
eyebrows, but Davies didnТt explain further. "Are you available this
evening?"
It was an unusual invitation, but an honor nonetheless. "Certainly.
Please inform Lord Fieldhurst that I would be delighted."
"A carriage will be outside your building at eight tonight." Davies
touched his hat and was off.
At the promised hour, Davies arrived with the carriage. It was a
luxurious vehicle, with an interior of lacquered mahogany and polished
brass and brushed velvet. The tractor that drew it was an expensive one as
well, a steed cast of bronze and needing no driver for familiar
destinations.
Davies politely declined to answer any questions while they rode. He
was obviously not a man-servant, nor a secretary, but Stratton could not
decide what sort of employee he was. The carriage carried them out of
London into the countryside, until they reached Darrington Hall, one of
the residences owned by the Fieldhurst lineage.
Once inside the home, Davies led Stratton through the foyer and then
ushered him into an elegantly appointed study; he closed the doors without
entering himself.
Seated at the desk within the study was a barrel-chested man wearing a
silk coat and cravat; his broad, deeply creased cheeks were framed by
woolly gray muttonchops. Stratton recognized him at once.
"Lord Fieldhurst, it is an honor."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stratton. YouТve been doing some excellent
work recently."
"You are most kind. I did not realize that my work had become known."
"I make an effort to keep track of such things. Please, tell me what
motivated you to develop such automata?"
Stratton explained his plans for manufacturing affordable engines.
Fieldhurst listened with interest, occasionally offering cogent