Lamp "die Fledermaus" caught my eye very quickly, I barely overcame a ton of junk. He kindly hanging on гвоздике, ready to please me and to light the way through the dark maze of the house. Inside his body glowed with kerosene, and I silently thanked, who prepared it for anxiety.
A little Tinker with lamp, I wick lit it, and went ahead in the wrong, rather слепящем than covering the light, emitted by it. I walked right and straight ahead, преоолев so few pass rooms, and, having estimated the approximate distance traveled with me to compare it with that long of an extension, I've identified another day, I realized that completed it and most likely'm in the building, which is adjacent.
I stood on the crossroads, because here образоввывался a corridor, from which one could go on all four sides. Rather, it was a room, but it is very big. And here I saw in the middle of her Desk, familiar table covered with a red cloth, and the details of that evening dreams surfaced in my memory one after the other.
I remembered the terrible chase and midnight conversations, his floundering over scary and unknown purpose well and wandering among the shelves filled with some books, folders and papers. Not escaped from me and other details of the adventure, and large run cold chills over my body. I was thrown into a mild chill.
I wanted to call the elders, but I was scared. The surrounding darkness гнела me, pressing his непроницаемостью, and took immense efforts to squeeze out from the throat is not what a scream, but the sound of live, a normal voice. Yes and costabout whether scream and call out? If the old man were alive, he would have found me, seeing the light керосинки.
After standing the middle of the room at the table with a red tablecloth, I remembered the direction of its flight and went back there again. Mountain обвалившейся the time shelves шкаа paper were cleared back; everything's set in order.
I opened the door leading into the well, and looked inside. Blinding, тускоый light bulb is not overclocked thickening here darkness, and I saw nothing.
PRишлось again get back to the room which I pRabout himself called the living room, and from there went remembering the road to the library, which kept the old man. In one of the ee rooms I wandered away from the old man's home. Now, having found it, I walked down the corridor and saw that thetotheir rooms are quite numerous, and everywhere it was interesting. On the shelves there was a multitude of books, what I had ever seen. Have met a lot of manuscripts. Their sheets were collected in folders, or simply stitched huge stapled or bound.
I was taken aback from such a great accumulation of books, and didn't even know where to start their viewing, and should, in General, do it. However, on every rack was an alphabetic character, and seeing those letters, decided to first see if there happens to manuscripts or books my father. As far as I remember, the old man something mentioned about my father.
When he began to understand, it noticed that the books are in alphabetical order. Names and manuscripts by author's name. Therefore, if the father and have some books they were inaccessible to me that I didn't know their names.
I took up the manuscript. In the darkness, only slightly diffused light bat, I like a mole, pottered about among the hordes of securities, running their fingers in wrinkle-proof and rushing sheets in their ranks, got from there a page or entire packs of paper covered with writing, looking at the names of the authors, if it was possible.
Finally, I pulled gently перевязанную тесемочкой tied in a bow, a thick folder and almost dropped it from her hands in astonishment, because suddenly saw at its cork their native surname. Дызание felt heart возбужжденно thumped in his chest. Finally, I've finally found it. That often, even in secret for yourself dreamed look for. The manuscript of my father. It was his trace on this earth, the fruit of his creation, his thoughts.
I woke up pride, bordering on зазнайством, and if now somebody had the imprudence to be next to me, I could not resist not to boast of him in the most obscene form. But this was not the main. Now I know that father have sent to prison just for this. Now would I know that worried, excited him, a little to penetrate into his inner world, the entrance to which was closed I already for a long time. Probably, in this manuscript was a lot of interesting and замечателного! Yes, even the fact that she ever existed, that was proof that my father was a man not only thinking and, therefore, extraordinary in our society, but also recording their thoughts, much noteworthy and it is more surprising. Agree, very few in this country people who would bother to писаниноfirst, if not associated with ихх profession, if they are not scientists, and not writers, for example.
I put it on the table lamp and put the folder to the light, and then blew her a thick layer of dust, pre-tapping her fingers over it, untied the bow, took the ribbon and saw that the manuscript does not belongs to my father. On the first page appeared to be the initials of his namesake: "Yakovlev Taras Bogdanovich". And below it and the name "Recognition and mercy."
"Also some poor fellow," he thought, with a great disappointment, and my interest in the manuscript immediately disappeared.
Sadly I tossed the folder on the floor so that she appeared from strong blow and pages someone's work rustled, scattering, scattering underfoot. My searches were protracted, but without much enthusiasm, with which started. Now I met another four одноамильца my father, and was surprised at how rich their meeting, placed in the cellar, unsuitable for long-term storage conditions that doom could be a very rare and valuable things and works fast and immediate damage and death.
Beauty services was already desperate anything to find, I have noticed a red cardboard folder, which was not on the shelf, and lay down on the floor under rack. How to get there — is unclear. I put it my lamp, and the odd thing is not even noticed.
I took off her lamp, raised, and then read in the middle Yakovlev Plato Isaakovich.
Without thinking, I decided to take her with him. Ve finally found her, this manuscript. I was excited to read it. I decided to leave this house. Today's findings I thought it was quite enough.
I left the library, taking with him except manuscripts father still a few other random. Now I walked back up the all-ткому same huge and mysterious house, holding in one hand under his arm a few plump folders, but in another front lamp "die Fledermaus", освещавшую me the way dull weak flame.
Returning dark corridors and rooms of the building, I noticed a few stairs leading up and down. Their dark failures attracted and frightened me at the same time. I was curious and scared, but for fear of getting lost, I never changed familiar way, who knows what labyrinths and xитросплетения could they make.
Soon I again found himself in the "living room", put the paper on the table and I put myself at the clock kerosene lamp. It was nearly three in the morning. "Strange, " I thought, " have I spent with papers so long?" The time flew by, as one instant, and it was almost dawn hour.
However, until the morning, there were still four Asa, and if I wish, I could do further investigation labyrinths of this of the house. I felt that in this darkness hiding from me still many undiscovered but interesting mysteries. As it was neither afraid , but I wanted to look into that hole, where I almost fell, and, most importantly, see what's on the bottom. I remembered that the old man kaki m way down and opened the door there in his wall, looking out for something in depth. I also wanted to look there.
Curiosity won out, emboldened by the fact that the time was long past midnight and близилсI dawn, and I went into the corridor, which once ran away from his night familiar. ПройдI it is quite far I come to its end, where saw a gaping black the failure of the cool down of the outgoing arch the ceiling above the staircase.
Treading on pig-iron cast stairs, probably a hundred years ago manufacturing cast designs in the form of flowers and branches with leaves, leaving винтотом right, spiral down, I found myself in raw brick hallway with unplastered walls. Brick brown brickwork, rough and poorly laid out, extinguished and without dim reflection from the lamp, and from around the darkened the already quite darkness. Raw bricks as if absorbed little light from the reed flame. I have not seen almost, but it felt like under your feet on the cement floor sprawling in all directions, 've crunched beneath my shoes are some beasts, gleaming in the light of their смолянистыми, fat-black chitin carapaces.
Find, I saw, rather, guessed at dusk slightly ahead and to the right side iron проржавевшую door, apparently, the one opened by the old man in that far, now seemed evening. By construction, it reminded repeatedly increased the valve stove-stoves: same primitive loop suspension, identical constipation-bolt same simplicity and rudeness work.
I tried to open it and strongly dirty rust. But this couldn't stop me, even though I had a reputation чистоплюем not had a good sense of soil himself in the mud. I приналег and heard piercing визжащее creaking of the несмазанных loops, echoey раскатившееся the vaults of the well and коридорчика. Its nasty, nasty and terrible echo, спугнувший silence darkness, stalled somewhere at the top.
I просунулся in black the formed hole, putting up yourself lamp.
In the bottom, so far, maybe two meters away, maybe less, I saw his reflection. There невозмутимом alone stood a black mirror of water.
The walls of the well bottom is slightly narrowed. Examining them, I found right under the door just below, may be only a few feet, in one and a half metres, output is small, with a half-meter in diameter Laza, fenced off from the top metal bars door. I bent lower and looked in there, as far as possible.
Light bulb snatched out of the dark-furred cobblestone course. I leaned down very low to the lattice, almost touching her, wanting to look deeper.
Suddenly out of the dark saw something reminding the crocodile, not a pig's snout. I shivered of consternation and surprise whole body and almost fell behind bars out the door. Something that feels like from the darkness Laza, a blowing even more, and I now навернякаувидел long, толстокожую the face of a crocodile. His small eyes sticking out of the coriaceous bags, blinded light lamp, as neither was he dim looked somewhere by lower jaw, chewing, mouth dropped open, revealing a jagged, but powerful, terrible and numerous crooked teeth-hooks.
In a daze I смотел at him, unable to move.
The creature was in the stillness for a few seconds, and then sharply метнувшись with places rushed on a lattice, taking aim, apparently, in the blinding lamp.
I recoiled from the grid, recovering himself from fright, and the crocodile flopped into the water. I thought I heard the prisoner's jaws snapped shut his mouth. Раздалсмя strong noise, water splashed. A few drops, probably, hit the glass bat, and it immediately snapped. Lamp зачадила through the cracks in the glass and after a few moments dimmed, if тже frightened by the incident.
Everything submerged into the darkness, where it was only hear плюханье at the bottom, where in the water floundering vile creature. Not wishing to tempt fate, I immediately shut the door, грохнувшую metal, closed and bolted, and falling to the ground, sat so long coming and прислушиваяь to плескам in the well. Now it was clear to me why there grille, and that said the old man, saying that I was on the verge of death.
Chapter 11.
From home I got out, when in the East already starting to crimson strip of horizon Zarya, gradually expanding to the sky. Came just in time, потоу that door just tightly shut behind me, and in the wall again n left slit reminds of its existence, like yesterday afternoon.
I do not remember how much time I sat down in the unconscious and near-unconscious. Then, when everything was groped in the dark hardly got out I went upstairs. From a strong fear even heart разболелось as I'd never ached. Just touch I found the Desk and took with him his papers: a few plump folders.
Now, when I stood on the street and breathed in the cool morning air of the city, unfortunately, only vaguely resembling fresh, it was still incredibly nice.
Many plants have not included the full power of their pipes-lamp wick, and you can enjoy at least the likeness of the virgin purity of even mildly intoxicating oxygen. Of course, it was not a village, but not the kind of atmosphere that presses in the middle of the day heavy mixtures многоччисленных emissions.
Stress gradually gone, disappeared, going down with every breath street air. Around was green, the ordinary mind with garden in a normal, незагадочном, ordinary city, and, looking at him, it was hard to believe it could be something similar at all what happened last night.
Will soon be morning, then comes the day, I go back to school. Let this promise me some trouble, possibly more, but this is a common, it is not dangerous, and therefore happy its invariability and familiarity.
Thinking so, I stood against the wall, when suddenly heard behind includes негрромкий squeaking and clank. Apparently worked some clever constipation, reacting to the sunlight, and the front door was now наддежно blocked. Yes. Be late , maybe I'm on several minutes, and сеидеть me in this house until the following night, until dark.
The arrows on my watch, moved to the seven, and I hurried to school, because again, could be late.
However, all went well. Returning without any adventures, I put the folder in my locker, quickly changed into a spare uniforms and even stood in the ranks of the platoon without delay, before announced the beginning of the morning inspection.
At the classes came up to me Охромов.
Where are you lost today the night? "he asked.
-Yes, so, in dismissal went, " I replied evasively. To share this time with his emotions I do not like.
-I've been searching, searching. Look — you in the evening there, and then hang up. Well, I think the artist, see the MOP until the morning has left! How could you have been?
-Yes well managed. We had to go, that's asked.
-Ah. Well, well done! And I you yesterday, searching, searching. Where the disappeared — Fig knows. Well, okay, what I wanted to. People dealing offer...
"You again?
-Yes, you understand, — started волноватьсI Охромов, — it's something simple. Well, quite a trifling. Do you need a couple of cake: to shower in the car half a ton of waste paper and pay us for such a simple job bешенные money: each pieces of ten.
