"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 002 - The Eyes of the Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

turned his eyes momentarily in that direction; an instant later, he was staring at the window again.

For he had heard a strangely sibilant whistle - close and ominous - as though it came from among the
bushes on the ground a full story below the window.

There was a rustle outside as if a slight breath of wind had stirred the thick ivy vines that covered the
stone masonry of the house. Then a head and shoulders were silhouetted in the dimness of the open
window. A grotesque form slipped over the sill.

The figure stole softly toward the bed. Duncan did not move. Somehow he seemed powerless to move.
He turned his eyes to follow the actions of the strange visitor from the night, and his gaze was transfixed
as the being came into the light from the transom.

The figure was that of an apelike man - a weird, stoop-shouldered creature whose arms were long and
whose fingers were bony claws. The face was wizened, and the eyes gleamed wickedly in the light.

The creature's head turned toward the bed. Instinctively, Bruce Duncan closed his eyes and lay as if
asleep. He had no will to move a muscle; he could only wait and wonder in the midst of this real
nightmare.

The side of the bed sagged slightly as though a form was pressing against it. The creature was stooping
over him now. Duncan could feel a warm breath against his forehead. His heart thumped furiously in this
moment of weird suspense, and he lay motionless as a waxwork figure, waiting for the clawlike fingers to
close about his neck.

But the thing from the night made no closer approach. It was like a game of strategy. Duncan felt that if
he made the slightest motion, death would follow. Only by feigning sleep could he escape.

WHAT was to be the next move? Duncan could only wait. Wait and watch.

The creature had moved onto the hearth of the fireplace. A bony hand appeared in the light. The claws
crawled up the right side of the fireplace until they reached the top. The hand pressed upward on the
metal border.

There was a sharp click. The creature turned quickly toward the bed, but Duncan's eyes closed instantly.
Again he lay motionless for fully fifteen seconds. Then he reopened his eyes and stared in fascination.

The gruesome creature was stooping now - stooping beside an opening in the hearth against the side of
the fireplace. Its bony hands dipped into the cavity in the floor. They emerged carrying a small package
and two envelopes.

The apish visitor again pressed the side of the fireplace, and Duncan saw the stone in the hearth close,
completely concealing the hole. As his eyes remained on the spot, he suddenly realized that the creature
was gone.

He glanced toward the window. A blotch appeared and immediately vanished downward. From outside
came that same hissing whistle. The ivy vines rustled. Then all was silent; the quiet of the night returned.
Only half awake, Duncan climbed out of bed, and switched on the light.

A dream, likely, thought Duncan. Well, there was only one way to test it.