"Oscar Wilde. The Canterville Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора

whole family went out to drive. They did not return home till nine o'clock,
when they had a light supper. The conversation in no way turned upon ghosts,
so there were not even those primary conditions of receptive expectation
which so often precede the presentation of psychical phenomena. The subjects
discussed, as I have since learned from Mr. Otis, were merely such a form
the ordinary conversation of cultured Americans of the better class, such as
the immense superiority of Miss Fanny Davenport over Sara Bernhardt as an
actress; the difficulty of obtaining green corn, buckwheat cakes, and
hominy, even in the best English houses; the importance of Boston in the
development of the world-soul; the advantages of the baggage check system in
railway travelling; and the sweetness of the New York accent as compared to
the London drawl. No mention at all was made of the supernatural, nor was
Sir Simon de Canterville alluded to in any way. At eleven o'clock the family
retired, and by half-past all the lights were out. Some time after, Mr. Otis
was awakened by a curious noise in the corridor, outside his room. It
sounded like the clank of metal, and seemed to be coming nearer every
moment. He got up at once, struck a match, and looked at the time. It was
exactly one o'clock. He was quite calm, and felt his pulse, which was not at
all feverish. The strange noise still continued, and with it he heard
distinctly the sound of footsteps. He put on his slippers, took a small
oblong phial out of his dressing-case, and opened the door. Right in front
of him he saw, in the wan moonlight, an old man of terrible aspect. His eyes
were as red burning coals; long grey hair fell over his shoulders in matted
coils; his garments, which were of antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and
from his wrists and ankles hung heavy manacles and rusty gyves.
"My dear sir," said Mr. Otis, "I really must insist on
your oiling those chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small
bottle of the Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely
efficacious upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that
effect on the wrapper from some of our most eminent native divines. I shall
leave it here for you by the bedroom candles, and will be happy to supply
you with more should you require it." With these words the United
States Minister laid the bottle down on a marble table, and, closing his
door, retired to rest.
For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite motionless in natural
indignation; then, dashing the bottle violently upon the polished floor, he
fled down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and emitting a ghastly green
light. Just, however, as he reached the top of the great oak staircase, a
door was flung open, two little white-robed figures appeared, and a large
pillow whizzed past his head! There was evidently no time to be lost, so,
hastily adopting the Fourth Dimension of Space as a means of escape, he
vanished through the wainscoting, and the house became quite quiet.
On reaching a small secret chamber in the left wing, he leaned up
against a moonbeam to recover his breath, and began to try and realise his
position. Never, in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of three hundred
years, has he been so grossly insulted. He thought of the Dowager Duchess,
whom he had frightened into a fit as she stood before the glass in her lace
and diamonds; of the four housemaids, who had gone off into hysterics when
he merely grinned at them through the curtains of one of the spare bedrooms;
of the rector of the parish, whose candle he has blown out as he was coming