The Shadow over Innsmouth / Морок над Инсмутом. Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт

the new church parsons – fellers as used to be sailors – wear them queer robes an’ cover theirselves with them gold-like things Obed brung? Hey?”

      The watery blue eyes were almost savage and maniacal now, and the dirty white beard bristled electrically. Old Zadok probably saw me shrink back, for he had begun to cackle evilly.

      “Heh, heh, heh, heh! Beginnin’ to see, hey? Mebbe ye’d like to a ben me in them days, when I seed things at night aout to sea from the cupalo top o’ my haouse. Oh, I kin tell ye, little pitchers hev big ears, an’ I wa’n’t missin’ nothin’ o’ what was gossiped abaout Cap’n Obed an’ the folks aout to the reef! Heh, heh, heh! Haow abaout the night I took my pa’s ship’s glass up to the cupalo an’ seed the reef a-bristlin’ thick with shapes that dove off quick soon’s the moon riz? Obed an’ the folks was in a dory, but them shapes dove off the far side into the deep water an’ never come up… Haow’d ye like to be a little shaver alone up in a cupalo a-watchin’ shapes as wa’n’t human shapes?… Hey?… Heh, heh, heh, heh…”

      The old man was getting hysterical, and I began to shiver with a nameless alarm. He laid a gnarled claw on my shoulder, and it seemed to me that its shaking was not altogether that of mirth.

      “S’pose one night ye seed somethin’ heavy heaved offen Obed’s dory beyond the reef, an’ then larned nex’ day a young feller was missin’ from home? Hey? Did anybody ever see hide or hair o’ Hiram Gilman agin? Did they? An’ Nick Pierce, an’ Luelly Waite, an’ Adoniram Saouthwick, an’ Henry Garrison? Hey? Heh, heh, heh, heh… Shapes talkin’ sign language with their hands… them as had reel hands…

      “Wal, Sir, that was the time Obed begun to git on his feet agin. Folks see his three darters a-wearin’ gold-like things as nobody’d never see on ’em afore, an’ smoke started comin’ aout o’ the refin’ry chimbly. Other folks were prosp’rin’, too – fish begun to swarm into the harbour fit to kill, an’ heaven knows what sized cargoes we begun to ship aout to Newb’ryport, Arkham, an’ Boston. ’Twas then Obed got the ol’ branch railrud put through. Some Kingsport fishermen heerd abaout the ketch an’ come up in sloops, but they was all lost. Nobody never see ’em agin. An’ jest then our folks organised the Esoteric Order o’ Dagon, an’ bought Masonic Hall offen Calvary Commandery for it… heh, heh, heh! Matt Eliot was a Mason an’ agin’ the sellin’, but he dropped aout o’ sight jest then.

      “Remember, I ain’t sayin’ Obed was set on hevin’ things jest like they was on that Kanaky isle. I dun’t think he aimed at fust to do no mixin’, nor raise no younguns to take to the water an’ turn into fishes with eternal life. He wanted them gold things, an’ was willin’ to pay heavy, an’ I guess the others was satisfied fer a while…

      “Come in ’forty-six the taown done some lookin’ an’ thinkin’ fer itself. Too many folks missin’-too much wild preachin’ at meetin’ of a Sunday – too much talk abaout that reef. I guess I done a bit by tellin’ Selectman Mowry what I see from the cupalo. They was a party one night as follered Obed’s craowd aout to the reef, an’ I heerd shots betwixt the dories. Nex’ day Obed an’ thutty-two others was in gaol, with everbody a-wonderin’ jest what was afoot an’ jest what charge agin’ ’em cud be got to holt. God, ef anybody’d look’d ahead… a couple o’ weeks later, when nothin’ had ben throwed into the sea fer that long…”

      Zadok was shewing signs of fright and exhaustion, and I let him keep silence for a while, though glancing apprehensively at my watch. The tide had turned and was coming in now, and the sound of the waves seemed to arouse him. I was glad of that tide, for at high water the fishy smell might not be so bad. Again I strained to catch his whispers.

      “That awful night… I seed ’em… I was up in the cupalo… hordes of ’em… swarms of ’em… all over the reef an’ swimmin’ up the harbour into the Manuxet… God, what happened in the streets of Innsmouth that night… they rattled our door, but pa wouldn’t open… then he clumb aout the kitchen winder with his musket to find Selectman Mowry an’ see what he cud do… Maounds o’ the dead an’ the dyin’… shots an’ screams… shaoutin’ in Ol’ Squar an’ Taown Squar an’ New Church Green… gaol throwed open… proclamation… treason… called it the plague when folks come in an’ faound haff our people missin’… nobody left but them as ud jine in with Obed an’ them things or else keep quiet… never heerd o’ my pa no more…”

      The old man was panting, and perspiring profusely. His grip on my shoulder tightened.

      “Everything cleaned up in the mornin’-but they was traces.… Obed he kinder takes charge an’ says things is goin’ to be changed… others’ll worship with us at meetin’-time, an’ sarten haouses hez got to entertain guests… they wanted to mix like they done with the Kanakys, an’ he fer one didn’t feel baound to stop ’em. Far gone, was Obed… jest like a crazy man on the subjeck. He says they brung us fish an’ treasure, an’ shud hev what they hankered arter…

      “Nothin’ was to be diff’runt on the aoutside, only we was to keep shy o’ strangers ef we knowed what was good fer us. We all hed to take the Oath o’ Dagon, an’ later on they was secon’ an’ third Oaths that some on us took. Them as ud help special, ud git special rewards – gold an’ sech- No use balkin’, fer they was millions of ’em daown thar. They’d ruther not start risin’ an’ wipin’ aout humankind, but ef they was gave away an’ forced to, they cud do a lot toward jest that. We didn’t hev them old charms to cut ’em off like folks in the Saouth Sea did, an’ them Kanakys wudn’t never give away their secrets.

      “Yield up enough sacrifices an’ savage knick-knacks an’ harbourage in the taown when they wanted it, an’ they’d let well enough alone. Wudn’t bother no strangers as might bear tales aoutside – that is, withaout they got pryin’. All in the band of the faithful – Order o’ Dagon – an’ the children shud never die, but go back to the Mother Hydra an’ Father Dagon what we all come from onct – Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn-”

      Old Zadok was fast lapsing into stark raving, and I held my breath. Poor old soul – to what pitiful depths of hallucination had his liquor, plus his hatred of the decay, alienage, and disease around him, brought that fertile, imaginative brain! He began to moan now, and tears were coursing down his channelled cheeks into the depths of his beard.

      “God, what I seen senct I was fifteen year’ old – Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin! – the folks as was missin’, an’ them as kilt theirselves – them as told things in Arkham or Ipswich or sech places was all called crazy, like you’re a-callin’ me right naow – but God, what I seen- They’d a kilt me long ago fer what I know, only I’d took the fust an’ secon’ Oaths o’ Dagon offen Obed, so was pertected unlessen a jury of ’em proved I told things knowin’ an’ delib’rit… but I wudn’t take the third Oath – I’d a died ruther’n take that-

      “It got wuss araound Civil War time, when children born senct ’forty-six begun to grow up – some of ’em, that is. I was afeard – never did no pryin’ arter that awful night, an’ never see one of – them – clost to in all my life. That is, never no full-blooded one. I went to the war, an’ ef I’d a had any guts or sense I’d a never come back, but settled away from here. But folks wrote me things wa’n’t so bad. That, I s’pose, was because gov’munt draft men was in taown arter ’sixty-three. Arter the war it was jest as bad agin. People begun to fall off – mills an’ shops shet daown – shippin’ stopped an’ the harbour choked up – railrud give up – but they… they never stopped swimmin’ in an’ aout o’ the river from that cursed reef o’ Satan – an’ more an’ more attic winders got a-boarded up, an’ more an’ more noises was heerd in haouses as wa’n’t s’posed to hev nobody in ’em…

      “Folks aoutside hev their stories abaout us – s’pose you’ve heerd a plenty on ’em, seein’ what questions ye ast – stories abaout things they’ve seed naow an’ then, an’ abaout that queer joolry as still comes in from somewhars an’ ain’t quite all melted up – but nothin’