"Brian Stoker - Dracula" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoker Bram)

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up
with a gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away,
at the same time putting out his two fingers and crossing himself.
"Give me the Herr's luggage," said the driver, and with exceeding
alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the caleche.
Then I descended from the side of the coach, as the caleche
was close alongside, the driver helping me with a hand
which caught my arm in a grip of steel. His strength must
have been prodigious.

Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept
into the darkness of the pass. As I looked back I saw the steam
from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,and projected
against it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves.
Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off
they swept on their way to Bukovina. As they sank into the darkness
I felt a strange chill, and a lonely feeling come over me.
But a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a rug across my knees,
and the driver said in excellent German--"The night is chill,
mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you.
There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the country)
underneath the seat, if you should require it."

I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was there all the same.
I felt a little strangely, and not a little frightened. I think had there
been any alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that
unknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along,
then we made a complete turn and went along another straight road.
It seemed to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again,
and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so.
I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but I
really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any protest
would have had no effect in case there had been an intention to delay.

By-and-by, however, as I was curious to know how time was passing,
I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch.
It was within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me
a sort of shock, for I suppose the general superstition
about midnight was increased by my recent experiences.
I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far
down the road, a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear.
The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another
and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly
through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come
from all over the country, as far as the imagination could
grasp it through the gloom of the night.

At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver