H.G. Wells (18661946). The Island of Doctor Moreau. 1896.
X. The Crying of the Man
AS I drew near the house I saw that the light shone from the open door of my room; and then I heard coming from out of the darkness at the side of that orange oblong of light, the voice of Montgomery shouting, Prendick! I continued running. Presently I heard him again. I replied by a feeble Hullo! and in another moment had staggered up to him.
Where have you been? said he, holding me at arms length, so that the light from the door fell on my face. We have both been so busy that we forgot you until about half an hour ago. He led me into the room and set me down in the deck chair. For awhile I was blinded by the light. We did not think you would start to explore this island of ours without telling us, he said; and then, I was afraidButwhatHullo!
He locked the door and turned to me again. He asked me no questions, but gave me some more brandy and water and pressed me to eat. I was in a state of collapse. He said something vague about his forgetting to warn me, and asked me briefly when I left the house and what I had seen.
Its nothing so very dreadful, said he. But I think you have had about enough for one day. The puma suddenly gave a sharp yell of pain. At that he swore under his breath. Im damned, said he, if this place is not as bad as Gower Street, with its cats.
Montgomery came round behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. Look here, Prendick, he said, I had no business to let you drift out into this silly island of ours. But its not so bad as you feel, man. Your nerves are worked to rags. Let me give you something that will make you sleep. Thatwill keep on for hours yet. You must simply get to sleep, or I wont answer for it.
I did not reply. I bowed forward, and covered my face with my hands. Presently he returned with a small measure containing a dark liquid. This he gave me. I took it unresistingly, and he helped me into the hammock.
When I awoke, it was broad day. For a little while I lay flat, staring at the roof above me. The rafters, I observed, were made out of the timbers of a ship. Then I turned my head, and saw a meal prepared for me on the table. I perceived that I was hungry, and prepared to clamber out of the hammock, which, very politely anticipating my intention, twisted round and deposited me upon all-fours on the floor.
I got up and sat down before the food. I had a heavy feeling in my head, and only the vaguest memory at first of the things that had happened over night. The morning breeze blew very pleasantly through the unglazed window, and that and the food contributed to the sense of animal comfort which I experienced. Presently the door behind methe door inward towards the yard of the enclosureopened. I turned and saw Montgomerys face.
Afterwards I discovered that he forgot to re-lock it. Then I recalled the expression of his face the previous night, and with that the memory of all I had experienced reconstructed itself before me. Even as that fear came back to me came a cry from within; but this time it was not the cry of a puma. I put down the mouthful that hesitated upon my lips, and listened. Silence, save for the whisper of the morning breeze. I began to think my ears had deceived me.
After a long pause I resumed my meal, but with my ears still vigilant. Presently I heard something else, very faint and low. I sat as if frozen in my attitude. Though it was faint and low, it moved me more profoundly than all that I had hitherto heard of the abominations behind the wall. There was no mistake this time in the quality of the dim, broken sounds; no doubt at all of their source. For it was groaning, broken by sobs and gasps of anguish. It was no brute this time; it was a human being in torment!
A startled deerhound yelped and snarled. There was blood, I saw, in the sink,brown, and some scarletand I smelt the peculiar smell of carbolic acid. Then through an open doorway beyond, in the dim light of the shadow, I saw something bound painfully upon a framework, scarred, red, and bandaged; and then blotting this out appeared the face of old Moreau, white and terrible. In a moment he had gripped me by the shoulder with a hand that was smeared red, had twisted me off my feet, and flung me headlong back into my own room. He lifted me as though I was a little child. I fell at full length upon the floor, and the door slammed and shut out the passionate intensity of his face. Then I heard the key turn in the lock, and Montgomerys voice in expostulation.
The rest I did not hear. I picked myself up and stood trembling, my mind a chaos of the most horrible misgivings. Could it be possible, I thought, that such a thing as the vivisection of men was carried on here? The question shot like lightning across a tumultuous sky; and suddenly the clouded horror of my mind condensed into a vivid realisation of my own danger.